^ 


LIBRARY 

OF  THB 

University  of  California. 


Class 


THE  GERMANS 


»  »  .  •  »    , 

»  »  «»   »     1 


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The  Kaiser 


THE  GERMANS 


I.  A.  R/Wt^LiE 

Author  of  Dividing  Waters,  The  Native  Born.  Etc. 


WITH  MANY  ILLUSTRATIONS 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  1911 
The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company 


PRESS    OF 

BRAUNWORTH    &    CO. 

BOOKBINDERS    AND    PRINTERS 

PROOKLYN.   N,   V. 


CONTENTS 

CHAP,  PAGE 

I.  The  Reason  OF  It— Introductory       .       .         i 

II.  South  German  Towns  in  General  and 

Karlsruhe  in  Particular       .       .       .       io 

III.  The  Two  Types 29 

IV.  The  Magic  Circles 45 

V.  Karlsruhe  Sociabilities         ....       65 

VI.  Christmas 85 

VII.  The  Students  and  the  Emperor's  Birthday    107 

VIII.  The  Duel 140 

IX.  The  Coat  OF  Many  Colors      .       .       .       .158 

X.  The  German  Woman 185 

XI.  Sporting  Matters 205 

XII.  Manners  Maketh  Man 225 

V  XIII.  Marriage— Before  and  After     .       .       .      239 

XIV.  Another  Fable  — Cheap  Germany        .       .      263 

XV.  The  Theater  and  Musical  Life    .       .       .275 

XVI.  Education 293 

XVII.  The  Poor  in  Town  and  Country    .       .       .317 

XVIII.   National  Spirit 341 

XIX.  Which  Contains  an  Appeal  and  an  Apology    355 


227644 


THE  GERMANS 


THE  GERMANS 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  REASON  OF  IT— INTRODUCTORY 

In  these  nervous  days,  when  peaceful  British 
householders  retire  to  bed  with  the  black  possi- 
bility before  them  of  waking  up  to  find  themselves 
overwhelmed  by  German  airships,  German  dread- 
noughts, German  soldiers,  and — ^worst  of  all — 
German  policemen,  in  other  words,  to  find  that 
their  dear  Motherland  has  been  transformed  into  a 
German  colony,  there  is  "of  making  many  books 
no  end"  on  the  subject  of  our  future  conquerors 
and  oppressors.  The  authors  are  sometimes  in- 
tensely serious — as  becomes  the  situation.  They 
belabor  us  with  statistics  and  calculations — differ- 
ing according  to  their  own  political  opinions — 
which  show  with  horrible  clearness  how  our  cous- 
ins are  growing  mentally  and  physically.  They 
lead  us  into  a  maze  of  German  law  and  German 
politics ;  they  give  us  vague  scraps  on  German  art 

I 


2  THE    GERMANS 

and  literature,  and  leave  us  with  the  bewildered 
impression  that  we  have  been  shown  the  internal 
workings  of  a  huge,  ugly  piece  of  machinery  which 
excites  alarm,  a  certain  amount  of  admiration — 
certainly  no  love. 

And  then  comes  the  second  class  of  what  might 
be  called  "German  Literature."  It  is  the  book 
that  is  written  by  the  peaceful  British  house- 
holder himself  in  leisure  hours  after  his  fortnight's 
trip  abroad.  He  has  been  to  Berlin,  and  stayed 
perhaps  at  a  not  very  expensive  boarding-house, 
and  has  therefore  every  right  to  speak  on  German 
society,  German  manners,  and  German  customs, 
and  to  condemn  everything  offhand.  He  has 
strayed  into  some  German  theater,  so  he  can  talk 
fluently  on  the  German  drama  of  to-day;  he  has 
had  a  furious  discussion  with  a  postal  official  who 
obstinately  refuses  to  understand  his  own  language, 
so  he  can  with  all  justice  complain  of  German  of- 
ficialdom; in  the  restaurant  he  has  discovered  that 
his  reiterated  "Kellner!"  is  treated  with  less  respect 
than  the  raised  finger  of  a  smart  young  Prussian 
officer,  so  German  militarism  forms  a  big  heading, 
with  significant  side-shots  at  conscription  in  gen- 
eral. He  ends  up  with  a  broad  survey  of  his 
impressions,  which  are,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no  im- 


INTRODUCTORY  3 

pressions  at  all,  but  the  crystallization  of  his  own 
prejudices.  On  the  whole,  this  second  book  is  a 
sort  of  extension  on  the  text,  "God,  I  thank  Thee  I 
am  not  as  other  men,"  and  it  leaves  us  smugly 
self-satisfied  and  aggressively  contemptuous;  it  is 
pleasant  to  find  that  our  preconceived  ideas  of  the 
mannerless  heathen  which  it  describes  were  after 
all  fully  justified. 

Then  comes  the  third  type.  It  is  frankly  humor- 
ous, and  has  cast  off  all  didactic  pretensions.  We 
laugh  from  beginning  to  end  at  the  funny  fat  Ger- 
man baron,  the  funny  fat  German  policeman,  the 
funny  fat  German  officer.  The  author  has  somehow 
or  other  picked  up  some  stray  peculiarities,  and 
turns  them  to  admirable  comic  effect;  and  though 
we  are  still  contemptuous,  our  contempt  has  be- 
come mingled  with  a  humorous  pity. 

Of  these  three  kinds  we  vastly  prefer  the  last 
two.  The  first  is  altogether  too  serious.  It  excites 
our  anxiety,  and  presents  us  with  facts  which  we 
would  much  rather  not  know,  and,  naturally 
enough,  awakens  no  sort  of  kindly  feeling  in  our 
hearts  for  the  people  it  has  set  out  to  describe.  We 
are  not  fond  of  machines  which,  to  all  appearances, 
are  created  solely  for  the  purpose  of  reducing  us 
and  our  national  pride  to  pulp.    The  other  two 


4  THE    GERMANS 

books  do  not  alarm  us;  the  one  is  mildly  Instructive 
— we  feel  that  we  can  afterward  found  our  in- 
stinctive dislike  for  the  Germans  on  definite  au- 
thority— the  other  amuses  us.  We  read  both  with 
chastened  appetite. 

And  so  we  go  on,  hating,  despising,  tolerating,  or 
ignoring  the  race  to  which  we  are  so  closely  con- 
nected, not  according  to  our  knowledge,  which  is 
often  nily  but  according  to  our  characters  and  our 
inherited  prejudices.  The  many  books  have  not 
helped  us;  our  short  travels  have  done  less  than 
nothing  to  clear  our  outlook,  overhung  as  it  usually 
is  with  insular  self-satisfaction.  We  have  stayed  at 
hotels  and  judged  the  Germans  by  so-called 
"types,"  which,  if  they  were  Englishmen  in  Eng- 
land, we  should  ignore  as  exceptions.  Of  the  inner 
life  of  the  real  "types"  the  average  Englishman 
knows  and  sees  next  to  nothing,  and  he  goes  home 
to  his  own  country  with  the  sincere  conviction  that 
there  is  no  man  like  an  Englishman,  and  no  country 
like  England. 

"Germany  without  the  Germans  would  be  all 
right"  is  the  text  to  a  caricature  in  some  German 
comic  paper  of  a  check-suited,  flat-footed,  much- 
bewhiskered  Englander  on  the  tour  of  inspection, 
and  such  is,  as  a  matter-of-fact,  the  conscious  or 


INTRODUCTORY         5 

unconscious  opinion  of  most  of  us.  And  yet — al- 
though I  would  never  dare  suggest  that  there  is 
any  man  like  an  Englishman — I  would  venture  to 
point  out  the  possibility  that  a  man  may  be  unlike 
and  still  perfectly  agreeable,  even — be  it  said  in 
whispers — with  his  certain  advantages.  Whereby 
I  have  betrayed  my  standpoint,  and  let  the  incorri- 
gible anti-German  beware!  It  is  a  standpoint,  I 
must  hasten  to  add,  taken  not  out  of  prejudice  nor 
as  the  result  of  unusual  circumstances.  Ordinary 
experience  alone  has  led  me  to  regard  the  people 
among  whom  I  live  with  respect  and  affection, 
but  ordinary  experience  is,  paradoxically,  the  most 
difficult  experience  to  obtain.  This  applies  not 
only  to  Germany  but  to  every  country.  Nowadays 
it  is  within  the  means  of  nearly  every  one,  even  of 
the  poorest  clerk,  to  travel  at  least  once  in  a  lifetime 
and  see  something  of  foreign  lands,  but  just  such  a 
traveler  can  of  necessity  only  see  things  from  an 
unusual  standpoint — that  of  an  outsider  and  a 
guest.  Whether  he  is  rich  or  poor  makes  no  diflfer- 
ence.  Whether  he  stays  at  a  cheap  boarding-house 
or  at  a  first-class  hotel  makes  no  difference  either. 
The  fact  remains — he  is  a  guest.  Even  if  he  has 
introductions,  and  is  allowed  to  penetrate  into  the 
circle  of  certain  families,  he  can  not  rid  himself  of 


6  THE    GERMANS 

that  one  great  disadvantage,  and  let  no  English- 
man, be  he  ever  so  observant,  imagine  because  he 
has  dined  twice  at  Herr  B.'s  table,  that  he  really 
knows  what  sort  of  a  man  Herr  B.  is,  or  what  sort 
of  life  he  leads.  Herr  B.,  like  every  other  human 
being,  does  not  carry  his  heart  on  his  sleeve,  and  he 
does  not  turn  out  his  household  gods  for  the  in- 
spection of  a  stranger.  He  may  be  worse,  and  he 
may  be  a  great  deal  better  than  he  seems — of  that 
his  guest  can  not  judge  with  any  certainty. 

Perhaps  this  sounds  very  obvious,  but  it  is  sur- 
prising how  many  people  there  are  who  would 
rightly  hesitate  to  give  their  opinion  on  an  acquaint- 
ance of  a  fortnight's  standing,  and  who  are  yet 
ready  not  only  to  criticize  but  to  condemn  a  whole 
nation  on  evidence  stretching  over  an  equally  short 
period  of  time,  and  based  probably  on  still  more 
superficial  observation.  This  mistake,  or  whatever 
you  please  to  call  it,  is  not  by  any  means  confined 
to  English  people.  I  suppose  it  was  first  brought 
home  to  me  by  an  absurd  book  on  England,  written 
by  a  German  after  a  six  weeks'  sojourn  in  my  coun- 
try, during  which  time  he  had  strayed  from  one 
horrible  experience  to  another,  under  the  impres- 
sion that  they  were  the  natural  and  inevitable  ex- 
periences of  every  one.   Of  course  one  is  indignant 


INTRODUCTORY         7 

over  the  consequent  criticisms,  because  they  are 
based  on — for  us — obviously  false  data.  But  we 
must  remember  that  in  six  weeks  an  honest,  pains- 
taking student  of  national  habits  and  customs  can 
gather  together  enough  perfectly  genuine  material 
on  which — unless  he  is  blessed  with  an  extraordi- 
nary degree  of  tolerance — he  will  consider  himself 
justified  in  founding  a  most  condemnatory  criti- 
cism. 

I  have  experienced  this,  alas!  in  my  own  person. 
A  year  or  two  ago  I  was  traveling  in  England 
with  a  German  friend.  I  had  been  foolish  enough 
to  boast  to  her  about  the  politeness  of  our  police- 
men, the  obligingness  of  the  people  in  general,  the 
excellent  "moral"  of  our  soldiers  and  sailors.  In 
one  month  we  encountered  nothing  but  offhand, 
sulky  policemen,  insolent  cab-drivers,  disobliging 
shop-people,  and  on  one  fatal  occasion  a  whole 
trainful  of  reeling  soldiers  on  their  way  to  India. 
Of  course,  these  were  exceptions — I  knew  it;  but 
could  I  expect  my  German  friend  to  believe  it? 
That  gave  me  a  lesson  which  I  shall  not  forget,  and 
it  has  since  been  more  deeply  engraved  on  my 
memory  by  the  specimens  of  English  people  I 
have  met  abroad.  They  have  all  too  often  brought 
small   credit  to   their  nation,   and   I   have  often 


8  THE   GERMANS 

wished,  when  listening  to  the  criticism  of  fellow- 
countrymen  over  the  land  in  which  I  live,  that  they 
could  suffer  some  of  the  humiliations  I  have  had  to 
suffer!  I  believe  then  that  they  would  be  more 
careful  of  delivering  judgment  even  on  the  most — 
apparently — convincing  evidence.  I  believe  they 
would  then  realize  that  people  can  only  be  judged 
from  the  inside,  and  that  it  is  only  possible  to  judge 
from  the  inside  after  years  of  intimate  acquaintance 
with  their  ordinary  life.  That  is  what  I  call  learn- 
ing by  experience.  It  is  not  learning  by  experience 
to  travel  through  a  country  with  a  note-book  and 
pencil  in  hand,  picking  up  statistics  and  character- 
istics and  building  up  generalities  on  what  might 
easily  prove  to  be  exceptions.  Statistics  have  no 
meaning  whatever  until  one  has  learnt  to  under- 
stand the  temper  of  the  people  they  concern,  and, 
as  I  must  repeat,  understanding  can  only  come  with 
years. 

This  leads  me  to  the  reason  of  it — the  rea- 
son why  I  have  ventured  to  add  a  modest  volume 
to  the  pile  that  has  been  written  on  the  same  sub- 
ject. It  is  not  in  everybody's  power — much  less  to 
everybody's  taste — to  make  their  home  abroad  in 
order  to  learn  to  appreciate  the  foreigner.  It  has 
been  my  lot  to  do  so,  and  I  feel  that  a  less  preten- 


INTRODUCTORY  9 

tious  effort,  made  neither  by  a  diplomatist  nor  a 
journalist  nor  a  business  man,  but  by  an  ordinary 
private  person,  living  the  ordinary  German  life 
in  an  ordinary  German  town,  might  do  more  than 
a  dozen  heavy  statistic-laden  reports  to  reveal  the 
fact  that  one  can  be  English  and  yet  sincerely, 
warmly  attached  to  one's  German  cousins,  both  as 
individuals  and  as  a  nation. 

I  do  not  pretend  that  my  experience  is  every- 
body's experience,  or  that  my  German  year  is  the 
year  of  every  distant  corner  of  the  Empire.  I 
merely  claim  that  it  is  typical,  that  the  Germans  I 
have  met  are  typical,  and  that  my  impressions  are 
sincere  and  unbiased. 


CHAPTER  II 

SOUTH  GERMAN  TOWNS  IN  GENERAL  AND 
KARLSRUHE  IN   PARTICULAR 

If  I  venture  to  describe  Karlsruhe,  I  do  so  with 
two,  I  hope,  sufficiently  good  excuses — firstly,  that 
I  can  not  give  an  account  of  my  German  year  with- 
out the  correct  mise  en  scene;  secondly,  that  Karls- 
ruhe is  in  itself  a  good  type  of  most  German  towns. 
I  dare  say  a  great  many  Germans  will  protest 
against  this  statement.  Karlsruhe  typical!  Karls- 
ruhe representative!  I  can  almost  hear  the  indig- 
nation of  the  Miinchener,  the  Frankfurter,  the 
Mannheimer,  and  all  the  rest  of  those  who  look 
upon  Karlsruhe  and  such  small  "residenz"  as  the 
dullest  spots  on  earth.  And  yet  there  is,  I  trust, 
method  in  my  madness.  To  take  a  great  commer- 
cial center  as  "typically  German"  seems  to  me  a 
self-admitted  error,  because  the  typical  German  is 
not  commercial.  He  is  not  fundamentally  a  money- 
maker, and  is  only  acquiring  that  talent  by  force  of 
circumstance   and   through    imitation   of   others. 

ID 


SOUTH    GERMAN   TOWNS  ii 

Moreover,  where  there  is  commerce  in  Germany 
there  are  always  two  Jews  to  one  Christian,  and  the 
Jew  is  not  a  German,  much  as  he  would  like  to  be, 
and  it  is  not  in  his  power  or  in  the  scope  of  his  char- 
acter to  live  the  typical  German  life.  Therefore  we 
can  safely  put  Frankfurt — of  which  it  is  said  that 
every  third  person  may  be  a  Christian,  but  more 
probably  is  not — on  one  side,  together  with  all  simi- 
lar towns,  and  look  elsewhere.  As  to  Miinchen,  it  is 
the  city  of  the  musician  and  the  artist,  and  conse- 
quently stamped  with  very  marked  and  individual 
qualities,  not  in  the  least  typical  of  the  average 
German.  And  then  the  Miinchener,  like  the  Ber- 
liner, like  the  Londoner,  is  above  all  things  a 
Gross-Stadter,  a  man  of  the  world  who  has  rubbed 
off  the  original  characteristics  of  his  race;  and  his 
home  and  his  surroundings,  as  a  natural  result, 
have,  in  retaining  a  certain  local  color,  lost  their 
national  distinctiveness.  It  is  in  the  lesser  towns, 
in  the  miniature  capitals,  that  one  finds  the  Ger- 
man in  his  native  state,  working  and  living  undis- 
turbed and  uninfluenced  by  the  foreign  stream 
which  flows  past  to  the  great  cities.  Just  such  a 
capital  is  Darmstadt,  Stuttgart,  Nurnberg— lastly, 
Karlsruhe. 
With  its  own  palace,  its  parliament,  its  mint,  its 


12  THE    GERMANS 

polytechnlcum,  its  State  theater,  its  own  special 
laws  and  ordinances,  it  is  a  German  town  pur  sang, 
and  the  Germans  who  inhabit  it,  from  the  aristo- 
crat of  the  Court  circle  down  to  the  little  trades- 
man, are  genuine  types.  I  feel,  therefore,  that  in 
giving  a  brief  description  of  Karlsruhe,  I  am  giv- 
ing a  fair  idea  of  dozens  of  middle-sized  South 
German  towns.  I  emphasize  South  German,  be- 
cause South  Germans  are  in  many  respects  a  dis- 
tinct race  from  their  northern  compatriots,  and  the 
difference  in  character  naturally  leaves  its  trace 
upon  their  surroundings.  I  shall  come  back  to  this 
point  later  when  I  speak  of  the  people  themselves. 
For  the  present  it  is  sufficient  to  remark  that  there 
is  a  difference,  and  that  I  am  concerning  myself 
chiefly  with  the  race  with  which  I  am  personally 
best  acquainted. 

It  is  a  little  difficult  to  draw  an  arbitrary  line 
between  North  and  South,  and  there  is  a  large  part 
which  belongs  distinctly  neither  to  the  one  nor  the 
other,  and  must  therefore  be  roughly  described  as 
Central  Germany.  Bavaria,  Wiirtemberg,  and 
Baden  form  the  decidedly  southern  element.  Of 
the  three  states,  Bavaria  is  the  most  important — if 
only  because  of  its  famous  capital — but  Baden 
reckons  itself,  and,  to  do  it  justice,  is  reckoned. 


COPYRIGHT.  BV  ONDERWOOO  A  UNOEflWOOO, 


Freiburg,  one  of   Baden's  most  beautiful  old  towns 


SOUTH    GERMAN   TOWNS  13 

^'the  model  state/'  and  in  its  comparatively  small 
dimensions  embraces  the  most  beautiful  and  rich- 
est tracts  of  Germany.  Adorned  by  the  glories  of 
the  Black  Forest,  watered  by  mighty  rivers,  blessed 
with  a  fertile  soil,  an  intelligent  people,  a  liberal- 
minded  Grand  Duke,  a  liberal-minded  govern- 
ment, it  is  indeed  an  enviable  little  country,  and 
deserves  the  many  flattering  epitaphs  which  it  be- 
stows upon  itself  and  also  receives.  Its  capital  is 
Karlsruhe — a  fact  which,  as  Macaulay  would  have 
said,  every  school-boy  knows.  But  I  have  taken  into 
consideration  that  not  everybody  is  a  school-boy, 
and  that  it  is  just  conceivable  that  the  name  "Karls- 
ruhe" may  awaken,  at  least  in  some  minds,  little 
but  a  vague  notion  that  Karlsruhe  is,  well,  some- 
where in  Germany.  Such  is  my  German  home, 
therefore — a  town  of  something  over  100,000  in- 
habitants. If  you  asked  any  one  of  them  what  they 
thought  of  the  place,  they  would  tell  you  without 
hesitation  that  it  is  the  dullest  place  on  earth,  that 
there  is  nothing  doing,  that  the  people  are  stiff  and 
"langweilig,"  that  the  theater  is  not  what  it  was, 
that  the  shops  are  twenty  years  behind-hand  in 
everything,  that  the  living  generally  is  bad  and  ex- 
pensive— en  fin,  that  anybody  who  lives  there 
willingly  is  an  acknowledged  fool.  After  which  de- 


14  THE    GERMANS 

scription  you  would  naturally  expect  to  find  the 
trains  filled  to  overflowing  with  emigrating  crowds. 
This,  however,  is  not  the  case.  Without  any  ap- 
parent reason  Karlsruhe  grows  from  day  to  day, 
and  the  people  who  once  settle  never  seem  to  move 
on.  I  know  indeed  of  one  lady  who  argued  herself 
into  such  a  state  of  indignation  that  there  was  noth- 
ing left  for  her  to  do  but  to  go.  She  tried  Miinchen, 
and  then  she  came  back.  This  is  the  only  case  that 
I  know  of.  My  German  friend — she  may  occur 
often  in  my  narrative,  so  under  this  title  let  her  be 
henceforth  known — declares  that  when  she  first 
settled  in  Karlsruhe,  twenty-five  years  ago,  she  felt 
that  she  was  taking  the  first  step  into  her  grave.  I 
fancy  her  opinion  remains  unchanged,  but  some- 
how, though  we  are  constantly  considering  other 
places  with  an  eye  to  "moving  on,"  we  never  really 
get  any  farther,  and  I  doubt  if  we  ever  shall. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  when  the  inhabitants  have 
cleared  the  atmosphere  with  a  good  inevitable 
German  grumble,  they  will  generally  admit  that 
Karlsruhe  has  its  advantages — especially  for  a  cer- 
tain class  of  people.  I  doubt  if  the  commercial 
folk  enjoy  them  to  the  full  extent,  for,  as  is  natural 
in  a  Grand-Ducal  "residenz,"  the  privileged  classes 
— the  military  and  official  circles — have  by  far  the 


SOUTH    GERMAN    TOWNS  15 

best  of  it,  but  for  these  latter,  Karlsruhe  has  indeed 
a  good  deal  to  offer.  It  is  just  big  enough  to  allow 
for  social  festivities  on  a  moderately  grand  scale, 
and  it  is  just  small  enough  to  allow  each  small 
personage  to  play  a  big  and  brilliant  part  in  the 
public  eye.  And  apart  from  its  social  advantages, 
there  are  certain  other  points  in  its  favor  which 
even  the  most  determined  grumbler  would  find  it 
hard  to  deny.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  a  compara- 
tively new  town.  Some  two  hundred  years  ago  a 
certain  Grand-Duke  Karl,  having  quarreled  with 
his  parliament  and,  generally  speaking,  come  to 
loggerheads  with  his  capital,  turned  his  back  on 
the  whole  troublesome  society,  and  went  in  search 
of  "peace  at  any  price."  He  believed  that  he  had 
found  it  in  a  lovely  sylvan  spot  a  few  miles  away 
from  his  original  "residenz,"  so,  to  spite  his  par- 
liament, and  also  to  repair  his  shattered  nervous 
system,  he  set  to  work  and  built  a  castle  in  the 
midst  of  the  forest,  thereby  hoping  to  have  created 
for  himself  a  refuge  from  the  bickering  and  nag- 
ging of  his  unruly  subjects.  Under  the  mistaken 
impression  that  he  had  succeeded  he  christened 
the  place  Karlsruhe  (Karl's  Rest  or  Peace).  Alas! 
this  action  proved  all  too  premature,  for  within  a 
short  time  his  renegade  people,  weary  of  their 


i6  THE   GERMANS 

loneliness,  deserted  the  old  capital,  and  a  few  years 
later  their  disconsolate  ruler  awoke  to  the  fact  that 
his  peaceful  refuge  had  become  a  veritable  town, 
and  the  name  "Karlsruhe"  a  bitter  irony.  The  poor 
Duke's  feelings  must  have  been  very  keen  on  the 
subject,  for  the  stone  at  the  entrance  to  the  old 
Schloss  bears  the  following  melancholy  if  resigned 
inscription — 

"In  Anno  Domini  1715  I  was  wandering  in  a 
wood,  the  abode  of  wild  beasts.  A  lover  of  peace, 
I  wished  to  pass  my  time  in  the  study  of  creation, 
despising  vanity,  and  paying  a  just  homage  to  the 
Creator.  But  the  people  came  also,  and  built  what 
you  here  see.  Thus  there  is  no  peace  so  long  as  the 
sun  shines,  except  the  peace  which  is  in  God,  and 
which  you  can,  if  you  will,  enjoy  in  the  middle  of 
the  world.    1728." 

Surely  an  irrefutable  argument  against  the  dem- 
ocrat who  would  prove  that  princes  are  an  unloved 
and  unsought-after  race  I 

At  any  rate,  willingly  or  unwillingly,  the  good 
Karl  had  laid  the  foundation  of  a  new  capital ;  the 
old  one  languished  as  a  punishment  for  its  unruli- 
ness,  and  is  to-day  an  historical  but  somewhat  dirty 
and  uninteresting  village,  which  in  time  will  prob- 


SOUTH    GERMAN   TOWNS  17 

ably  be  swept  clean  and  incorporated  with  the  capi- 
tal as  a  suburb.  Karlsruhe,  on  the  other  hand,  grew 
and  prospered.  In  the  beginning  no  more  than  a 
semicircle  of  houses  surrounding  the  Schloss-Platz, 
it  spread  out  in  regular  fan-like  order  until  it 
reached  its  present  dimensions. 

Thanks,  therefore,  to  its  recent  foundation,  it  is 
exceptionally  clean  and  well  kept.  When  I  say 
"exceptionally"  I  mean  a  good  deal,  for  my  im- 
pression of  German  towns  as  a  whole  is  of  cleanli- 
ness and  order.  The  clearer,  drier  climate  may 
account  for  this  to  some  extent,  but  I  think  the  real 
explanation  lies  in  the  stern  rule  of  the  state  or — in 
this  particular  instance — of  the  Town  Council, 
whose  lynx-like  glance  pierces  into  the  uttermost 
corner,  and  sees  to  it  that  that  corner  is  made  as 
habitable  and  as  decent  as  is  humanly  possible.  I 
do  not  think  that  the  Englishman  would  fancy  that 
lynx-eye,  although  its  interference  is  on  the  whole 
quite  paternal,  and  not  half  so  objectionable  as  is 
made  out  by  people  who  wish  to  prove  that  the 
German  is  the  most  police-bullied  man  on  earth. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  he  is  not  bullied — he  is  "looked 
after." 

You  can  best  imagine  the  situation  if  you 
consider  every  state  in  Germany  as  a  "House"  in 


i8  THE    GERMANS 

some  big  college,  with  its  esprit  de  corps,  its  own 
laws  and  customs,  but  under  one  all-uniting  head. 
To  carry  the  analogy  to  the  end,  the  people  are  of 
course  the  students,  divided  into  higher  and  lower 
classes,  the  masters  the  ministers,  the  ushers — if  you 
like — the  police.  And  the  maxim  which  rules  the 
whole  organization  is  "that  everything  is  for  every- 
body's good."  Of  course,  this  may  seem  a  some- 
what humiliating  system  for  grown-up  people ;  but 
when  it  is  taken  into  consideration  that  there  are 
more  fools  than  wise  men  in  the  world,  and  that 
the  folly  of  fools  can  be  infinitely  more  harmful 
than  the  wickedness  of  the  wicked,  it  is  surely  one 
that  has  its  justification.  Be  it  as  it  may,  this  sys- 
tem exists  in  Germany,  and  its  results  are  to  be 
seen  in  every  department  of  life,  and  not  least  in 
the  town  organization.  I  do  not  say  that  it  is  a  per- 
fect organization — there  are  sometimes  quite 
startling  if  human  lapses — but  it  is  certain  that  it 
is  an  organization  which  is  toiling  laboriously,  if 
steadily,  along  the  path  of  self-improvement.  It 
is  animated,  too,  by  a  certain  amount  of  rivalry 
between  the  towns — especially  between  the  capi- 
tals of  the  various  states.  So  much  exists  still  of  old 
divided  Germany,  and  so  much  is  undoubtedly 
beneficial.    The  consequences  are  that  each  town 


BV  ONDCRWOOO  «  UNOCimOOO,  > 


Women    street    cleaners 


SOUTH    GERMAN    TOWNS  19 

does  its  best  to  attain  the  highest  standard  of  law, 
order,  and  progress. 

From  these  points  of  view  Karlsruhe  justly  reck- 
ons itself  among  the  first — if  not  the  first.  Cer- 
tainly, to  walk  through  its  symmetrically  well-built 
streets  is  to  gain  an  impression  of  light,  fresh  air, 
and  cleanliness.  A  whole  army  of  neatly  uniformed 
individuals  are  busy  morning,  noon,  and  night; 
sweeping,  watering,  and  sand-strewing  according 
to  orders.  Sometimes  the  orders  clash  with  unfore- 
seen circumstances,  as  when  a  watering-cart  is  seen 
devotedly  performing  its  duty  in  the  teeth  of  a 
deluging  thunderstorm,  but  on  the  whole  they  are 
carried  out  to  the  general  benefit.  And  over  every- 
thing the  policeman  watches  with  a  paternal,  wake- 
ful eye.  If  you  wish  to  prove  his  wakefulness  you 
need  only  leave  your  own  particular  piece  of  pave- 
ment in  an  untidy  state,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a 
polite  but  firm  arm  of  the  law  will  spring  appar- 
ently from  nowhere  to  recall  you  to  a  sense  of  duty. 

I  dare  say  he  is  very  glad  of  something  to  do,  for 
his  life  must  be  one  of  deadly  monotony.  Nothing 
ever  seems  to  happen.  The  very  horses,  when  it  oc- 
curs to  them  to  enliven  proceedings  by  running 
away,  do  so  at  an  easy  jog-trot,  and  stop  of  them- 
selves; a  burglary  causes  as  much  sensation  as  a 


20  THE   GERMANS 

full-grown  revolution;  the  so-called  slums  are 
places  which,  compared  to  our  notions  of  the  term, 
are  paradises  of  law  and  order.  So  the  policeman, 
except  on  rare  occasions,  has  practically  nothing  to 
do  but  stand  about  and  wait  and  hope.  On  the 
above-mentioned  "rare  occasions,"  such  as  at  the 
time  of  the  Hau  trial,  when  emotions  ran  high,  the 
military  turns  out,  and  there  is  a  quick  end  to  the 
matter.  The  military,  in  fact,  is  a  sort  of  active 
maid-of-all-work  to  the  law,  and  is  ready  to  assist 
at  a  revolution  or  a  fire  or  an  accident  with  the 
same  excellent  results.  But,  as  I  have  said,  these 
occasions  are  rare.  Placidity  and  general  propriety 
is  in  the  atmosphere,  and  that  is  no  doubt  why  a 
certain  class  of  people  find  such  middle-sized  towns 
as  Karlsruhe  "langweilig."  There  are  amusements 
enough,  but  of  a  sober  type,  which  would  scarcely 
suit  the  wilder  spirits.  A  sternly  classical  Hof- 
Theater,  a  couple  of  music-halls — mere  cafes, 
where  acrobats  and  a  mild  vulgarity  help  to  wile 
away  the  evenings  for  a  lower  class  paterfamilias, 
and  even  for  the  family  itself — and  a  cinemato- 
graph of  perfectly  respectable  and  even  didactic 
tendencies,  are  not  forms  of  entertainment  likely  to 
lead  the  unsteadiest  into  mischief.  Whether  it  is 
this  lack  of  temptation  or  the  character  of  the  peo- 


SOUTH    GERMAN   TOWNS  21 

pie  themselves,  or  a  little  of  both,  I  do  not  know, 
but  certain  it  is  that  the  streets  of  Karlsruhe  are 
safe  at  all  hours  for  people  not  on  the  look-out  for 
trouble,  and  in  six  years  I  have  not  seen  either  by 
day  or  night  an  intoxicated  man,  much  less  an  in- 
toxicated woman.  I  should  think  the  latter  does  not 
exist. 

There  are  no  beggars ;  begging  is  absolutely  for- 
bidden in  all  its  forms  except  at  the  time  of  the 
Fair,  and  even  then  there  are  only  one  or  two  crip- 
ples, who  are  neither  starved-looking  nor  ill- 
clothed.  Street  organs,  German  bands,  all  forms  of 
public  nuisance,  are  unknown.  The  only  noise  one 
ever  hears  issues  from  the  Wirts-Hauser,  where  a 
Gesangs-Verein  (a  choral  society)  is  gathered  to- 
gether over  the  beer  glass  to  practice — perhaps  a 
Bach  oratorio! 

Very  little  is  left  to  public  enterprise,  and  the 
people  seem  satisfied  that  even  their  pleasures  and 
recreation  should  be  in  the  hands  of  the  municipal- 
ity. They  do  not  consider  it  any  particular  priva- 
tion to  be  without  a  private  garden.  A  big  shady 
garden,  as  we  understand  it  and  love  it,  is  practi- 
cally unknown — not  on  account  of  expense,  the 
richest  man  in  Karlsruhe  has  no  more  than  a  front 
patch — but  simply  because  no  one  feels  the  need  of 


22  THE    GERMANS 

such  a  thing.  They  are  not  in  the  least  exclusive, 
and  the  pleasure  of  sitting  shut  off  from  the  world 
in  your  own  little  bit  of  private  property  has  no 
charm  for  them.  The  average  South  German  pre- 
fers to  live  and  breathe  and  take  his  pleasure  with 
others,  and  since  the  municipality  provides  him 
with  woods  and  parks  and  public  garden,  why 
should  he  bother  to  spend  money  on  something 
which  he  must  enjoy  in  comparative  solitude?  So 
he  keeps  his  little  plot,  if  he  has  one,  in  fair  order, 
and  plants  a  few  flowers  in  it  to  keep  up  the  cheer- 
ful appearance  of  the  street,  and  spends  his  free 
time  and  his  spare  money  drinking  his  glass  of  beer 
with  his  family  in  the  Stadt-garten,  and  listening 
to  the  band  and  greeting  his  friends.  Or,  if  he 
wishes  for  peace,  there  is  the  forest  and  the  Wild 
Park  open  to  him.  In  this  respect  Karlsruhe  is  per- 
haps unusually  fortunate,  for  so  much  remains  of 
the  poor  Duke  Karl's  first  surroundings  that  it  is 
possible  in  five  minutes  from  the  center  of  the  town 
to  lose  oneself  in  what  seems  an  endless  pine-forest, 
and  forget  that  trams  and  motors  and  crowds  ever 
existed.  Bicycling  and  footpaths  are  beautifully 
kept,  and  one  can,  I  believe,  walk  in  the  cool  pine- 
scented  shade  as  far  as  Mannheim,  some  thirty 
miles  away.    (This  is  mere  hearsay,  as  personally 


1  ^,    '   >     t 


Listening  to  music  in  the  public  gardens 


SOUTH    GERMAN    TOWNS  23 

I  have  never  made  the  experiment.)  All  this  is 
public  property,  and  on  Sunday  it  is  made  good 
use  of  by  the  sociable  holiday  folk  who  can  not  af- 
ford the  necessary  20  pf.  which  gains  an  entrance 
into  the  Stadt-garten,  where  a  military  band,  a  good 
restaurant,  and  a  beautifully  kept  flower-garden, 
help  to  bring  refreshment  to  the  hard-working 
German.  It  is  always  crowded,  and  I  think  the 
point  that  strikes  a  foreigner  most  in  a  walk 
through  the  unprotected  flower  paths,  even  on  a 
grand  holiday  when  children  and  people  of  all 
classes  abound,  is  that  no  one  is  rough,  no  one  ill- 
mannered,  no  one  attempts  to  touch  the  flowers  or 
trample  on  the  lawns.  There  is  no  paper-throwing 
or  any  form  of  disorder.  I  am  sure,  after  the  fullest 
day,  the  gardens  are  as  tidy,  as  well  kept,  as  they 
were  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning.  Every- 
thing, like  the  people  themselves,  is  orderly  and 
clean  and  peaceful. 

Then,  if  you  are  more  select,  and  wish  to  leave 
the  crowds  behind  you,  there  is  the  Wild  Park,  the 
property  of  the  Grand-Duke,  who  allows  you  an 
entrance  for  the  sum  of  ten  marks  yearly  as  a  sort 
of  guarantee.  No  motors  are  allowed,  and  a  sylvan 
peace  inhabits  the  long  straight  allees  of  mingled 
pine  and  oik.   A  rider  galloping  along  the  horse- 


24  THE    GERMANS 

path,  a  green-coated  forester  with  his  dog  and  gun, 
a  woodcutter  or  two,  the  Grand-Duke  himself — 
such  are  the  only  people  you  are  likely  to  meet  on 
your  rambles.  Numberless  squirrels  will  scuttle 
across  your  path,  herds  of  deer  will  watch  you  curi- 
ously from  amidst  the  trees,  and  perhaps  toward 
evening  a  family  of  wild  boars — wild  only  in  name, 
be  it  said  for  your  reassurance — will  jog  comfort- 
ably from  one  shady  glade  to  another,  but  these 
accentuate  rather  than  disturb  your  loneliness.  It 
is  as  though  the  place  were  your  own  private  prop- 
erty, and  who  can  be  surprised,  therefore,  if  the 
Karlsruher  neglects  to  acquire  gardens  of  his  own 
when  he  can  enjoy  so  much  for  a  modest  ten  mark 
piece?  And  even  if  that  sum  can  not  be  spared, 
there  is  enough  to  be  had  for  nothing. 

Thus,  as  I  have  said,  the  State  or  the  Municipal- 
ity takes  at  least  one  form  of  public  amusement 
into  its  own  hands.  It  lays  out  gardens  in  every  va- 
cant spot,  it  arranges  for  certain  enclosures  where 
children  can  play  in  safety,  for  tennis  places  and 
foot-ball  places — the  latter  to  be  had  for  the  mere 
asking.  No  one,  in  fact,  need  feel  privation  where 
fresh  air  and  flowers  and  trees  are  concerned.  But 
the  hand  of  the  powers  that  be  stretches  still  fur- 
ther into  the  public  life.   In  a  hundred  ways  the 


SOUTH    GERMAN    TOWNS  2S 

State  watches  over  the  welfare  of  its  charges — its 
children  in  every  sense  of  the  word.  It  even  makes 
it  its  business  to  see  that  the  guileless  public  is  not 
swindled  by  quack  doctors  with  quack  medicines. 
Almost  any  day  you  will  find  in  the  official  paper 
a  large  printed  notice  issued  by  the  officer  of  health 
warning  against  some  patent  medicine  (how  many 
popular  English  remedies  have  I  seen  thus  held  up 
to  the  light  of  ridicule!),  and  woe  to  him  who  en- 
deavors to  foist  wares  on  to  the  public  which  are 
not  all  they  are  said  to  be!  Again  there  is  scarcely 
an  institution  of  real  value  to  the  general  popula- 
tion which  is  not  partly  or  entirely  supported  either 
by  the  Grand-Duke  or  the  town.  Thus  the  hospital 
— one  of  the  most  modern  and  beautiful  in  Europe 
— does  not  depend  for  its  existence  on  capricious 
charity.  It  is  the  property  of  the  town,  and  is  ar- 
ranged to  receive  every  class,  from  the  poorest  to 
the  richest.  The  theater  does  not  depend  on  the 
favor  of  the  public ;  it  is  the  property  of  the  Grand- 
Duke,  and  can  afford  therefore  to  be  good.  The 
trams  and  railways  are  nearly  all  State,  and  conse- 
quently the  conductors  and  railway  officials,  down 
to  mere  porters,  are  decently  uniformed,  and  not 
allowed  to  perform  their  duties  in  any  rags  they 
choose. 


26  THE    GERMANS 

So  it  is  in  every  branch  of  life.  Everything 
is  organized,  nothing  left  to  the  slipshod,  haphaz- 
ard notions  of  the  muddler,  or  of  private  companies 
bent  on  their  own  gain.  No  doubt  the  system  has 
its  grave  disadvantages.  Personal  charity  is  dis- 
couraged, and  there  is  a  general  lack  of  public 
initiative.  I  think  this  latter  is  the  w^orst  evil.  It  is 
almost  as  though  the  system  of  "being  looked  after" 
has  paralyzed  the  spirit  of  undertaking.  What  the 
State  does  not  do  no  one  does.  And  the  State  is 
sometimes  appallingly  slow  and  cumbersome  in  its 
movements,  so  that  reforms  are  dreamed  of  in  one 
generation  and  executed  in  the  next.  Even  the 
shops  seem  infected  with  the  disease.  No  shopman 
tries  to  do  better  than  another,  in  cheapness  or  in 
quality  or  in  novelty.  He  shrugs  his  shoulders  at 
you  if  he  can  not  supply  you  with  what  you  want. 
"We  don't  keep  it,  and  so  you  won't  be  able  to  get 
it  in  Karlsruhe,"  they  say.  And  they  are  perfectly 
right.  It  is  the  same  everywhere.  Where  the  State's 
hand  is  at  work,  you  can  be  sure  that  it  is  for  the 
general  good  and  that  it  will  be  thoroughly  done, 
but  the  State  has  no  idea  of  hurrying  itself.  It  takes 
its  time,  and  there  is  no  public  spirit  to  arouse  it  or 
to  take  its  place.  And  even  if  the  public  spirit  is 
momentarily  aroused,  it  is  quite  powerless.    The 


SOUTH    GERMAN    TOWNS  27 

State  also  shrugs  its  shoulders.  ^'Take  it  or  leave  it 
— just  as  you  like.  I  don't  care!"  Whereupon  the 
public  spirit  is  immediately  subdued  and  humbled. 

Added  to  all  this,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  neces- 
sary but  not  very  pleasant  interference  in  private 
life.  To  look  after  its  children  the  State  has  to 
employ  an  immense  army  of  officials,  who  have 
the  right  to  appear  in  your  house  any  time  of  the 
day,  and  ask  any  idiotic  question  that  may  occur  to 
them.  They  are  always  very  polite  and  apologetic, 
but  it  is  their  business  to  interfere,  and  so  they  inter- 
fere to  the  best  of  their  ability.  I  say  this  out  of  the 
bitterness  of  my  heart,  because  in  reality  I  know 
that  the  interference  is  necessary  to  the  State  plans, 
but  it  is  none  the  less  irritating  and  tiresome.  Of 
course  the  German  grumbles,  but  I  do  not  think  he 
minds  in  the  least;  he  takes  a  grievance  or  an  inter- 
ference as  a  necessary  evil,  and  is  thankful  that  he 
has  not  to  bother  about  putting  it  right. 

Hence  you  have  in  Karlsruhe  some  rather  start- 
ling contradictions — elegant  tramways  in  one  street 
and  a  miserable  little  railway  in  another;  ad- 
mirable sanitary  arrangements  in  one  house,  an 
antiquated  if  healthy  enough  system  in  another; 
admirable  police,  and  a  fire-brigade  of  aged  ama- 
teur muddlers  who  arrive  on  the  scene  of  action  an 


28  THE    GERMANS 

hour  after  everything  is  over.  Of  course,  one  day  all 
this  will  be  regulated  to  an  equal  state  of  perfection 
— as  soon  as  the  Powers  begin  to  move.  But  the 
Powers  are  very  slow,  and  the  public  are  incapable 
of  spurring  them  on.  One  has  to  wait  and  be  pa- 
tient. 

This(  is  the  worst  I  have  to  say.  Taken  as  a 
whole,  Karlsruhe  is  a  healthy,  orderly,  successful 
town,  having  its  counterparts  in  every  state  in  Ger- 
many. The  German  spirit  is  slow  but  thorough, 
and'  it  is  a  natural  consequence  that  the  towns  it 
builds  should  be  slow  but  thorough  also. 

So  much,  therefore,  for  my  German  home.  Let 
me  now  pass  on  to  the  people  among  whom  my 
German  year  is  spent. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  TWO  TYPES  . 

Looking  back  to  the  innocent  days  when  I  knew 
nothing  at  all  about  Germans  and  disliked  them 
heartily,  I  have  a  vague  recollection  of  having  al- 
ways had  two  distinct  types  in  my  mind's  eye.  The 
one  was  a  tall,  fierce-looking  individual  v^ith  a 
monstrous  Kaiser-mustache,  an  insolent  stare,  and 
excessively  bad  manners.  He  was  the  sort  of  person 
who  pushed  ladies  off  the  pavement,  and  was  gen- 
erally notorious  as  a  swaggering,  spur-clicking, 
Schwert-rasselende  bully.  He  was  the  type  which 
I  fancy  Mark  Twain  once  described  when  in  a  seri- 
ous mood,  and  was  altogether  detestable.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  was  the  second  type — a  stout  per- 
son with  glasses,  a  drooping,  untidy  moustache, 
long  greasy  hair  and  a  passion  for  poetic  outpour- 
ings. He  was  very  exclamatory,  easily  moved  to 
tears  or  laughter,  ready  to  embrace  every  one  at 
first  sight,  and  if  not  exactly  detestable,  at  any  rate 
deserving  of  a  mildly  amused  pity. 

29 


30  THE    GERMANS 

These  two  types  exist  to-day — in  our  literature — 
and  are  as  immortal  as  the  flat-footed,  horse- 
toothed,  bewhiskered  lamp-post  in  loud  check 
trousers  and  gray  top-hat,  which  is  still  recognized 
on  the  continent  as  the  ^'Typical  Englishman."  Of 
course  that  type  of  Englishman — if  he  ever  existed 
at  all — is  as  dead  as  the  period  in  which  he  lived, 
and  we  nowadays  may  well  wonder  over  the  carica- 
ture which  in  our  eyes  has  no  resemblance  to  the 
reality.  I  suppose,  therefore,  that  the  German  has 
the  right  to  wonder  over  the  two  distinct  pictures 
we  have  made  of  him.  Of  course,  all  three  are  pure 
caricature,  which  have  just  sufficient  truth  in  them 
to  make  them  laughable.  Here  and  there  it  is  pos- 
sible to  run  across  a  cadaverous-looking  English- 
man, with  a  Baedeker  and  field-glasses,  who  bears 
a  family  likeness  to  that  old  type,  and  here  and 
there  one  does  meet  with  Germans  who  remind  us 
of  the  pictures  we  have  seen  or  the  accounts  we 
have  read.  The  truth  is,  that  in  their  desire  to 
make  fun  of  each  other  each  nation  has  chosen  out 
the  extreme — one  might  almost  say  exceptional — 
types  of  the  other  and  labeled  them  as  "typical." 
I  have  experienced  the  same  thing  in  a  small  way. 
I  once  walked  through  the  streets  of  Karlsruhe 
with  a  newly-arrived  English  friend,  and  noticed 


THE   TWO   TYPES  31 

how  she  passed  over  all  the  good-looking,  well-set- 
up people,  of  which  there  were  plenty,  and  waited 
until  we  met  an  uncouth-looking  specimen,  when 
she  nudged  me. 

^^Isn't  that  a  typical  German?"  she  exclaimed. 

Of  course  he  was  not  in  the  least  typical — he  was 
the  exception.  What  she  really  meant  was  that  he 
was  the  ^^typical  exception" — that  he  could  not  have 
been  anything  else  but  German.  But  no  doubt  she 
still  cherishes  the  idea  that  most  Germans  are  like 
him,  just  as  most  Germans  believe  that  English 
people  are  lanky  and  ugly  and  extremely  rude. 

Revenons  a  nos  moutons!  Where  and  how  have 
our  two  distinct  pictures  of  the  Teuton  been  found? 
As  a  rule  we  do  not  bother  to  reconcile  them.  We 
know  that  the  one  is  there  for  the  use  of  the  serious 
author,  who  wishes  to  impress  his  reader  with  the 
brutality  of  the  German  creature,  and  the  other  for 
the  humorist  who  wants  a  ridiculous  puppet  to 
poke  fun  at.  And  yet  there  is  the  inevitable  grain 
of  truth.  There  are  two  types  of  Germans,  and  if 
the  difference  between  them  is  exaggerated  almost 
beyond  recognition,  it  exists  none  the  less. 

The  Prussian  is  of  course  the  swaggering  bully, 
and  the  South  German  the  fat  sentimentalist.  The 
great  distance  of  land  which  separates  them,  the 


32  THE    GERMANS 

difference  of  climate,  are  quite  sufficient  to  account 
for  the  difference  between  the  two  great  types.  The 
bitter  northern  winds,  the  long  stretches  of  bleak 
and  barren  territory,  have  made  the  North  German 
a  man  of  iron,  stern,  resolute,  reserved.  The  rich, 
fertile  soil,  the  mountain  sides  covered  with  vine, 
the  warm  sunshine,  have  made  the  South  German 
easy-going,  cheerful,  emotional,  and  expansive. 
Hence  the  Bavarian  gentleman  recognizes  the 
Prussian  even  before  he  speaks.  Not  as  in  Eng- 
land, the  hall-marking  characteristics  do  not 
confine  themselves  to  the  lower  classes.  The 
gentleman  is  proud  of  his  "dialect,"  and  in  fact  of 
everything  which  publishes  his  origin  and  birth- 
place. This  is  the  case  not  only  between  north  and 
south,  but  between  one  state  and  another,  between 
one  district  and  another.  I  have  known  a  rich  edu- 
cated man  who  fiercely  objected  to  his  daughter  be- 
ing taught  "hoch  Deutsch,"  although  her  dialect 
was  limited  to  a  certain  minute  tract  of  land,  out  of 
which  no  one  understood  her.  Of  course  he  was 
old-fashioned.  The  tendency  nowadays  is  to  rub 
off  all  distinctions,  and  gradually  the  differences 
which  mark  the  Black  Forester  from  his  brother, 
from  the  Palatinat,  and  so  on,  will  disappear.  But 
the  greater  distinctions  remain,  and  will  always 


THE   TWO   TYPES  33 

remain,  just  as  certain  characteristics  will  always 
divide  the  Englishman  and  the  Scotsman  into  two 
races. 

In  Germany  the  differences  were,  and  to  some 
extent  are,  the  outcome  of  political  divisions.  Forty 
years  ago  they  were  fostered  and  cherished  as  a 
proof  of  patriotism.  Then  a  man  was  theoretically 
German  and  practically  a  Bavarian,  or  a  Prussian, 
or  a  Hanoverian,  with  the  particular  interests  of  his 
own  particular  state  at  heart.  Now,  though  the 
name  ^'German"  has  been  given,  both  theoretically 
and  practically,  the  prime  importance,  "local  pa- 
triotism" still  flourishes  side  by  side  with  the  old 
grievances  and  dislikes.  Let  it  be  made  at  once 
clear  that  these  are  no  more  than  sentimental.  They 
are  of  no  real  value  whatever;  and  the  man  who 
cried  out  for  the  redivision  of  Germany  or  the  over- 
throw of  Prussia  as  the  ruling  power,  even  if  he 
stood  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  rabid  anti-Prus- 
sians, would  be  treated  as  a  harmless  lunatic.  Still, 
just  as  the  German  of  all  classes  loves  to  grumble, 
so  he  loves  to  emphasize  his  hatreds  and  his  reasons 
for  their  existence.  Hence  the  North  and  South 
Germans  are  declared  enemies.  To  hear  them  talk 
one  would  imagine  that  an  ocean  divided  them, 
but  I  fancy  it  is  all  talk.  At  any  rate,  the  differences 


34  THE    GERMANS 

are  not  so  great  that  one  can  not  sit  between  them  at 
a  dinner  table  and  be  equally  charmed  with  both. 

The  Prussian  is  perhaps  more  correct,  more  tena- 
cious with  the  forms  and  ceremonies ;  at  the  end  of 
the  meal  he  will  shake  your  hand  and  wish  you 
"Gesegnete  Mahlzeit"  with  a  deep  bow;  the  opin- 
ions he  expresses  are  strongly  conservative  and  im- 
perial. The  South  German,  on  the  other  hand, 
skips  over  formalities  if  he  can  do  so  with  safety — 
especially  if  you  are  a  foreigner;  his  manners  are 
easier  and  lighter;  he  has  liberal,  even  mildly  dem- 
ocratic, tendencies ;  you  see,  in  a  word,  in  every  de- 
tail, the  far-off  glimmer  of  the  characteristics 
which  go  to  make  up  the  genuine  people  of  the 
South.  But  these  distinctions  are  by  no  means  so 
striking  as  to  stamp  ^^truth"  upon  the  caricatures 
which  I  described  at  the  beginning  of  the  chapter. 
The  Prussian's  stiffness  does  not  for  an  instant 
amount  to  rudeness  or  even  abruptness,  nor  is  he  in 
the  least  the  wooden  bully  of  the  fables.  Nor  need 
you  be  afraid  of  the  South  German  breaking  into 
either  sentiment  or  raptures ;  and,  indeed,  unless  you 
are  very  wide-awake,  and  on  the  lookout,  you  may 
never  realize  that  there  is  any  difference  at  all.  Or 
perhaps  your  right-hand  neighbor  may  tell  you 
that  the  South  German  is  a  ^'schlappiger  Kerl" 


THE   TWO   TYPES  35 

(careless,  slovenly  fellow),  and  your  left-hand 
neighbor  that  the  Prussian  is  ''ungemiitlich"  (un- 
translatable, but  infers  stiff  and  unpleasant) ,  both 
in  low-voiced  asides,  which  arouses  you  to  the  fact 
that  you  are  sitting  between  sworn  foes. 

As  I  have  said,  I  do  not  think  the  antagonism  is 
of  much  account.  Your  two  neighbors  are  prob- 
ably bosom  friends,  except  in  theory,  and  I  have 
noticed  that  the  North  German,  though  he  is  loud 
in  his  contempt  for  his  careless,  devil-may-care 
compatriot,  is  ready  to  join  in  his  devil-may-care 
ways  on  the  first  opportunity  offering  itself.  Certain 
it  is  that  the  Prussian  officers  who  are  commanded 
to  South  German  regiments  never  want  to  go  back 
to  their  native  soil.  They  grumble  at  what  they 
call  the  "slovenliness"  of  the  South  German  soldier, 
and  the  more  easy-going  discipline  of  his  officers, 
but  there  is  a  mildness  in  the  atmosphere,  a  warmth 
in  the  Rhine  wine,  and  a  cheery,  happy-go-lucky 
air  about  every  one,  which  even  the  stern  discipline- 
loving  Prussian  can  not  long  resist.  He  too  melts, 
and  as  time  passes  he  shrinks  involuntarily  from 
the  thought  of  the  icy  northern  winds  and  the  rigor 
of  the  northern  discipline.  And,  after  all,  the  re- 
laxation, such  as  it  is,  can  not  be  accounted  very 
serious,  at  any  rate  from  a  military  point  of  view. 


36  THE    GERMANS 

True  It  may  be  that  the  Prussian  soldier  is  a  shade 
"strammer,"  the  buttons  on  his  uniform  a  shade 
brighter,  that  the  Prussian  officer  is  a  shade  more 
punctilious  in  the  accomplishment  of  his  duty,  a 
shade  more  the  man  of  iron  and  blood  as  Bismarck 
loved  him.  But  what  are  shades  of  difference, 
especially  when  they  are  atoned  for,  as  in  this  case, 
by  so  much  Mutterwitz,  good-humor,  and  good- 
nature? 

In  private  life,  where  the  individual  is  freer  to 
follow  his  inclination  and  temperament  without 
fear  of  reprimand,  the  differences  become  less  shad- 
owy, more  noticeable.  The  South  German  loves 
to  take  things  comfortably;  he  has  a  weakness  for 
the  dolce  far  niente,  which  the  Italian  manages 
with  so  much  grace,  but  which  nature  never  meant 
for  the  sturdy  Teuton.  He  was  meant  for  exertion 
in  storm  and  sunshine,  constant  hard  work  and  bit- 
ter privations,  and  up  to  the  last  years  Providence 
has  seen  to  it  that  he  has  had  enough  of  all  three. 

Thus  his  tendency  to  take  things  easily  does  not 
suit  him  as  far  as  outward  matters  are  concerned. 
It  shows  Itself  early  in  life  as  a  "letting  himself  go," 
a  certain  slovenliness  in  appearance  and  habits 
which  calls  down  the  ire  of  the  North  German  and 
the  contempt  of  the  foreigner.     To  give  an  in- 


THE  TWO  TYPES  37 

stance:  a  middle-class  man  (I  say  "middle-class" 
with  reservations,  because  owr  middle-class  does  not 
exist  in  Germany;  "educated"  would  be  perhaps 
the  better  term)  does  not  think  of  changing  into 
evening  clothes  unless  on  some  really  festive  oc- 
casion. On  the  contrary,  he  slips  into  the  oldest 
and  most  comfortable  garment  he  possesses,  with 
the  irrefutable  argument,  "Why  shouldn't  I  be  at 
my  ease  after  a  hard  day's  work,  and  why  should  I 
put  on  my  expensive  clothes  in  order  to  partake  of 
beer  and  cold  meat?"  Even  when  he  goes  to  the 
theater  he  does  not  trouble  to  change.  In  the  first 
place,  evening  clothes  are  not  "evening"  clothes  for 
him.  They  are  the  correct  garments  to  assume  at 
all  great  functions,  at  whatever  time  of  the  day; 
and  theater-going  is  not  a  great  function,  it  is  part 
of  his  daily  life,  part  of  his  daily  work,  one  might 
safely  say,  for  what  German  family  of  only  mod- 
erate means  does  not  have  its  season  ticket?  Added 
to  this,  he  does  not  care  for  appearances,  and  he 
knows  that  no  one  of  his  position  does.  So  long  as 
he  has  a  title  of  some  sort  to  hall-mark  him  as  a 
man  of  a  certain  position  he  knows  that  no  one  of 
his  set — the  only  set  he  cares  about — will  venture 
to  criticize  him  or  his  clothes.  So  he  goes  about  in 
his  happy-go-lucky  way,  and  the  slight,  good-look- 


38  THE    GERMANS 

ing,  smartly-dressed  student  loses  his  figure  and  his 
smartness  with  painful,  astonishing  rapidity. 

It  is  the  same  with  his  wife,  at  whose  devoted 
head  her  northern  sister  thunders  the  epithets  of 
"disorderly,"  "extravagant,"  "careless,"  "untidy," 
and  "inelegant."  She,  too,  takes  matters  "auf  die 
leichte  Schulter."  As  soon  as  she  has  her  husband 
her  most  serious  business  in  life  is  at  an  end,  and 
she  proceeds  along  the  dangerous  path  marked  as 
"gemutlich."  Not  that  she  is  without  pride,  but  it 
turns  on  position  rather  than  appearances.  If  she 
is  a  Geheimratin  (the  wife  of  a  councillor) ,  she  can 
wear  mittens  and  cotton  gloves  and  dowdy  dresses 
without  shame — in  fact  no  one  bothers  what  she 
wears.  But  I  must  emphasize  that  all  this  applies 
only  to  the  South  German,  and  then  chiefly  to  one 
particular  class — the  educated  class.  The  self- 
same Geheimratin  in  Prussia  has  already  a  certain 
style;  her  interests  are  more  equally  divided  be- 
tween her  position  and  the  way  in  which  she  should 
represent  it.  Her  husband  may  even  attend  dinner 
in  evening  dress,  though  she  is  hardly  likely  to 
go  so  far  as  to  assume  decollete.  Even  in  South 
Germany  there  is  a  class  which  lays  considerable 
stress  on  outward  form  and  appearance — that  of 
the  aristocracy.    Of  course,  where  the  aristocracy 


THE  TWO  TYPES  39 

is  poor — as  it  very  often  is — elegance  is  still  lack- 
ing, and  no  one  thinks  anything  about  it,  but  where 
there  is  money  as  well  as  name  you  at  once  find  all 
the  outward  refinements  of  life  observed  with  true 
German  thoroughness.  Thus  it  is  possible  to  at- 
tend a  South  German  theater  on  a  festive  night, 
and,  without  having  seen  the  people  before,  to  pick 
out  the  aristocracy  simply  by  their  dress  and  gen- 
eral appearance.  I  myself  have  attended  a  ball 
where  I  was  able  among  the  hundred  guests  to 
pick  out  the  one  solitary  "von."  And  in  this  I  was 
only  led  by  the  cut  of  his  coat,  and  a  little  by  the 
general  appearance  of  the  man.  It  goes  without 
saying  that  there  are  glaring  exceptions.  I  know  a 
certain  baroness  who  might,  without  any  stretch  of 
imagination,  be  taken  for  her  own  cook,  but  these 
exceptions  occur  in  every  country,  and  can  not  be 
taken  into  account. 

On  the  same  scale  the  North  German  of  privi- 
leged birth  is  still  more  ''correct,"  still  more  care- 
ful to  be  dressed  according  to  the  dictates  of  custom 
and  fashion.  In  making  this  statement  I  must  warn 
against  all  exaggeration.  The  average  South  Ger- 
man is  not  the  uncultured,  unwashed  yokel  of  the 
novels.  At  his  worst  he  is  a  little  rough  and  ready, 
a   trifle   "derb,"    a   trifle   indifferent   to   outward 


40  THE    GERMANS 

things,  but  he  rarely  fails  where  the  politeness  and 
refinement  of  the  heart  are  concerned.  And  even 
the  occasional  lack  of  polish  is  beginning  to  be  a 
thing  of  the  past,  and  will  disappear  altogether 
when  the  German  has  acquired  riches  enough,  and 
has  had  time  and  experience  enough  to  apply  them 
to  his  physical  and  material  culture.  The  accounts 
of  German  family  life  which  I  have  read  in  cer- 
tain English  novels  belong,  for  the  most  part,  to  a 
state  of  things  which  may  have  existed  two  genera- 
tions ago.  Certainly  they  do  not  exist  nowadays. 
A  great  deal  has  already  changed,  and  a  great  deal 
will  be  changed  within  a  very  short  time.  For  ex- 
cessive culture  and  refinement  in  a  state  and  in  a 
people  is  always  the  signal  of  decline,  and  the  Ger- 
mans are  not  declining;  they  are  advancing  fast, 
and  in  the  advance  are  learning  to  acquire  polish 
as  well  as  strength. 

To  return  from  prophecy  to  my  friend  the  South 
German,  I  must  say  in  his  defense  that  his  easy-go- 
ing habits  extend  only  to  physical  matters.  He  is 
a  hard  and  willing  brain  worker,  and  the  spectacle 
of  a  "man  of  leisure"  is  a  rare  sight.  He  has  in- 
finitely fewer  holidays  and  longer  hours  than  the 
Englishman,  and  the  worst  thing  that  can  befall 
him  is  to  be  deprived  of  his  occupation,  even 


THE  TWO  TYPES  41 

though  it  be  by  old  age.  It  is  this  tenacity,  this  love 
of  work  for  work's  sake,  rather  than  commercial 
talent,  which  makes  the  German  a  dreaded  rival. 
He  may  be  inclined  to  be  slovenly  in  his  dress, 
and  he  may  not  care  very  much  whether  his  clothes 
are  well  or  badly  cut;  he  may  grow  stout  from  want 
of  exercise  (as  I  have  said,  nature  intended  him  for 
hardship,  and  when  things  are  physically  too  com- 
fortable for  him  she  revenges  herself  with  an  avoir- 
dupois which  an  Englishman  is  spared,  even 
though  he  eat  and  drink  double),  but  in  his  office 
he  is  unpitying,  with  himself  and  with  his  subordi- 
nates. And  he  is  highly  educated,  not  only  in  his 
profession,  but  in  other  branches,  in  art,  in  music, 
and  in  science.  It  would  not  be  too  much  to  say 
that  the  average  German  knows  more  about  Eng- 
lish literature  than  the  average  Englishman.  From 
a  mental  standpoint  he  is  inexhaustible,  and  per- 
haps quicker  and  more  intelligent  than  his  northern 
brethren,  who  are  physically  stronger  and  more  ac- 
tive. 

The  same  criticism  applies  to  the  womenfolk. 
Physical  activity  is  new  to  them,  and  has  come  too 
late  to  save  the  present  generation  of  mothers  from 
stoutness,  but  mentally  they  atone  for  all  other 
shortcomings.    I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of  the 


42  THE   GERMANS 

much-despised  German  woman  later,  so  that  for 
the  present  I  will  confine  myself  to  her  Herr 
Gemahl,  who  is  a  good-hearted,  cheerful,  industri- 
ous person,  extremely  sociable,  intensely  sensitive. 
This  last  point  is  a  very  important  one  to  notice,  if 
you  wish  to  live  with  him  in  peace  and  amity.  He 
is  easily  hurt.  He  has  not  been  through  the  rough- 
and-tumble  of  an  English  public  school,  and  even 
his  year  with  the  troops  has  not  hardened  him.  The 
abuse  of  the  under-officer  does  not  affect  him,  as 
coming  from  an  inferior,  and  the  chaff  of  his  equals 
is  always  kept  within  bounds.  The  very  existence 
of  the  dueling  system  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  court- 
esy with  which  the  men  treat  each  other;  and  no 
matter  how  young  he  is,  a  German  will  be  careful 
to  treat  his  comrade,  his  comrade's  family,  and  his 
comrade's  opinions  with  a  certain  respect,  as  things 
which  are  guarded  by  the  sword  and  the  pistol. 
Hence  the  German's  sensitiveness,  which  is  part 
of  his  character,  is  fostered  by  circumstance,  and 
often  brings  him  into  conflict  with  his  Anglo-Saxon 
cousin. 

The  Englishman,  it  must  be  admitted,  has  very 
little  consideration  for  other  people's  toes  when  he 
is  on  the  continent.  I  have  known  really  nice  English 
people  who  thought  nothing  of  making  fun  of  some 


THE  TWO  TYPES  43 

German  custom  in  the  very  face  of  the  Germans 
themselves,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  feel  nervous 
when  I  have  English  friends  to  stay  with  me,  lest 
they  should  blurt  out  their  opinions  and  cause  an 
irreparable  disaster.  Moreover,  they  are  not  given 
to  expressing  their  gratitude  or  admiration  in  very 
ardent  terms,  and  consequently  the  German  is  very 
often  hurt  indeed.  To  say  merely,  "Thank  you 
very  much,''  to  a  German  after  an  afternoon  tea  or 
some  such  mild  forrh  of  hospitality,  is  equivalent  to 
saying,  "I  have  not  enjoyed  myself  in  the  least," 
and  you  will  be  put  down  as  cold  and  ungrateful. 
Not  to  express  voluntary  admiration,  whether  it  be 
over  a  dress  or  a  dinner  or  a  work  of  art,  is  to  be  in- 
tensely disagreeable.  It  does  not  matter  how  bad 
or  how  ugly  things  are,  you  must  always  hide  your 
feelings  behind  elaborate  praise.  This  is  the  Ger- 
man's form  of  politeness — never  to  say  anything 
disagreeable.  It  is  not  the  shallow,  cynical  flattery 
of  the  Frenchman.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  he 
means  what  he  says;  his  good-nature  is  ready  to 
make  the  best  of  everything,  and  he  can  more  easily 
persuade  himself  that  things  are  really  beautiful 
than  bring  himself  to  utter  the  brutal  truth.  He 
shrinks  from  harsh  criticism,  and  he  dislikes  to  ad- 
minister it.    Not  that  he  is  incapable  of  criticism. 


44  THE    GERMANS 

He  Is  perfectly  willing  to  abuse  himself  and  all  his 
belongings,  from  his  house  to  his  Kaiser,  in  the  bit- 
terest terms,  but  if  you  are  led  away  to  agree  with 
him,  you  must  be  prepared  for  the  worst.  He  will 
never  forgive  you. 

This  painful  degree  of  personal  and  national 
sensitiveness  often  brings  a  new-comer  in  the 
Fatherland  into  difficulties,  and  has  cost  many  an 
Englishman  his  chance  of  popularity.  But  once 
you  have  learned  to  treat  his  feelings  with  respect, 
you  will  find  the  German  the  most  amiable,  kindly 
host,  and  the  most  thankful  and  enthusiastic  guest. 
A  little  understanding,  a  little  sympathy  in  our 
public  and  in  our  private  life — alas,  how  little  is 
necessary  and  how  much  less  is  given! — and  per- 
haps we  should  not  hear  so  much  of  "strained  rela- 
tions," and  "Anglo-German  incidents,"  and  "war 
scares."  We  might  build  up  an  entente  cordiale  with 
our  cousin — surely  a  more  natural  and  fitting  one 
— and  grow  to  admire  him  and  like  him,  as  I  trust, 
reader,  you  may  feel  more  inclined  to  do  when  you 
have  traveled  through  my  German  year  with  me. 


CHAPTER  ly 

THE  MAGIC  CIRCLES 

We  are  preparing  to  give  a  dance — a  very  small 
one,  be  it  understood,  but  not  on  that  account  less 
weighty  with  anxiety. 

English  hostess,  if  ever  it  seems  to  you  on  the  eve 
of  your  great  ball  that  you  have  been  through  more 
worry  and  bother  than  the  whole  thing  is  worth, 
that  you  have  borne  enough  to  exasperate  an  angel, 
that  you  are  altogether  the  most  harrassed  person 
living,  console  yourself  with  the  thought  that  your 
German  sister  has  difBculties  to  contend  with  of 
which  you  know  nothing.  True  it  is  that  o-  ^  she 
has  got  her  guests  together  they  are  the  easiest  peo- 
ple in  the  world  to  satisfy,  but  until  that  blissful 
moment  what  troubles  and  problems  have  to  be 
overcome! 

Can  you  imagine  an  ordinary  residential  town 
of  about  100,000  inhabitants,  and  can  you  imagine 
those  inhabitants  divided  into  compact  circles 
which  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  one  another  if 

45 


46  THE   GERMANS 

they  can  help  it,  but  rotate  on  their  own  axis  in 
proud  independence?  Cliques,  you  will  suggest. 
No,  ^'clique"  is  not  the  word.  A  "clique"  is  a 
French  thing,  and  this  is  essentially  German.  It 
may  exist  in  modified  degrees  in  other  parts  of  the 
world,  but  only  in  Germany  does  it  reach  full  per- 
fection and  attain  the  dignity  of  a  national  institu- 
tion. Every  German  and  every  German  woman 
belongs  to  a  "Kreis" — a  circle — and  there  are  as 
many  circles  as  there  are  professions.  There  is  the 
exclusively  Court  Circle,  the  Aristocratic  Circle, 
the  Military  Circle,  the  OfHcial  Circle,  the  Law 
Circle,  the  Musical  Circle,  the  Art  Circle,  the 
Learned  Circle,  the  Commercial  Circle,  the  Jew- 
ish Circle,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  And  they  are 
all  independent,  all  more  or  less  exclusive. 

How  they  came  to  be  formed  is  difficult  to 
say.  The  Court  and  Aristocratic  Circles  are 
natural  growths,  and  I  dare  say  the  others  fol- 
lowed as  a  matter  of  fashion,  or  perhaps  as  a  sort  of 
"slap  back."  (If  you  are  shut  out  yourself,  it  is  al- 
ways a  satisfaction  to  shut  some  one  else  out.) 
Some,  no  doubt — like  the  Jewish  Circle — were  in- 
evitable. At  any  rate,  there  they  are,  and  if,  as 
sometimes  happens,  a  husband  belongs  to  one  circle 
and  the  wife  to  another,  severe  complications  can 


THE   MAGIC   CIRCLES  47 

set  in  where  entertaining  is  concerned.  It  must  be 
admitted,  however,  that  this  constellation  of  cir- 
cumstances is  rare.  A  German  usually  picks  out 
his  wife  from  his  own  circle,  or  if  he  should  look 
elsewhere,  his  choice  is  usually  swallowed  up,  little 
by  little,  in  her  husband's  entourage,  and  drifts  out 
of  her  original  sphere.  The  latter  proceeding  must 
be  almost  as  painful  as  giving  up  one's  nationality. 

I  can  not  imagine  a  Fraulein  von  X.  marrying 
Herr  Fabrikant  Z.,  and  not  retaining  an  inborn 
contempt  for  his  friends  and  his  ways;  I  can  not 
imagine  either  that  his  friends  will  ever  forget  that 
she  is  an  aristocrat  and  an  outsider,  or  cease  to 
suspect  her  of  arrogance.  I  can  not  imagine  a 
Fraulein  M.  marrying  a  Herr  von  N.,  and  ever 
feeling  herself  quite  at  home  among  her  hus- 
band's people.  If  she  is  experienced,  she  will  know 
that  the  first  question  they  will  ask  is :  "Was  f iir 
eine  geborene  war  sie?"  and  that  the  answer  will 
remind  them  that  she  is  not  "One  of  Us."  Hence 
people  marrying  out  of  their  own  circles  must  be 
prepared  for  some  bad  moments,  and  the  practice  is 
not  encouraged. 

I  have  just  given  examples  from  the  two  larg- 
est and  most  important  circles — the  Aristocratic 
and  Bourgeois — but  I  could  give  examples  from  all 


48  THE    GERMANS 

the  others,  which  are  circles  within  circles.  If  they 
are  less  strictly  defined  and  exclusive  from  a  matri- 
monial standpoint,  they  are  still  socially  all-im- 
portant. A  lawyer's  friends  are  lawyers,  and  if  an 
officer  or  a  professor  or  a  doctor  drifts  into  his 
^'dinners,"  he  is  and  remains  an  outsider — almost  a 
foreigner.  The  professor  clings  to  his  colleagues, 
and  has  no  interest  for  any  one  else,  and  his  wife 
must  choose  her  women  friends  from  the  same  cir- 
cle. It  is  obvious,  therefore,  that  if  a  host,  through 
exceptional  circumstances,  has  friends  in  more  than 
one  circle,  it  behooves  him  to  be  careful.  Not  that 
it  would  be  exactly  a  faux  pas  to  invite  the  profes- 
sor with  the  officer,  but  it  would  undoubtedly  be  a 
deliberate  flying  in  the  face  of  the  good  fairy  who 
presides  over  successful  social  gatherings.  The 
officer  and  the  professor  would,  of  course,  be  ex- 
quisitely polite,  but  they  would  have  nothing  to  say, 
and  both  would  go  home  grumbling  at  each  other 
and  at  the  host.  This  is  perhaps  an  extreme  case, 
because  the  two  professions  stand  in  every  country 
at  opposite  poles.  I  can  put  the  case  clearer  when  I 
observe  that,  if  you  are  inviting  officers,  it  bodes 
well  for  you  if  you  manage  to  get  them  all  out  of 
the  same  regiment.  If  you  give  a  mixed  party,  you 
will  see  at  once  that  the  mixture  is  a  failure — that. 


THE  MAGIC   CIRCLES  49 

in  fact,  the  guests  do  not  mix.  The  situation  is  still 
more  marked  when  officers  and  civilians  are  invited 
together.  In  a  moment  the  "Gesellschaft"  divides 
itself  into  two  distinct  camps,  the  civilians  keep  to 
one  side  of  the  room,  the  officers  to  the  other,  and 
nothing  on  earth  will  bring  them  together.  They 
will  be  exaggeratedly  polite  to  one  another,  and 
this  alone  is  enough  to  spoil  the  "Stimmung."  And 
even  worse  would  be  an  invitation  which  included 
Jews  and — we  will  say — officers.  Such  a  proceed- 
ing would  be  regarded  as  unpardonable  tactless- 
ness, and  is  almost  unthinkable — it  makes  me  quite 
uncomfortable  even  to  suggest  it. 

Of  course,  what  I  have  said,  with  the  exception 
of  the  Jewish  question,  applies  itself  more  particu- 
larly to  small  "evenings."  At  a  big  ball  or  recep- 
tion, where  the  elements  lose  themselves,  it  is  safe 
to  invite  any  one  you  know,  so  long  as  each  circle 
is  sufficiently  represented  to  prevent  any  one  from 
feeling  that  he  is  an  outsider.  In  any  case  it  is  rare 
for  a  host,  unless  he  be  in  a  high  state  post,  to  be- 
long to  more  than  one  circle.  An  instance  may  be 
given  in  the  case  of  a  professor  of  noble  birth,  who, 
besides  his  professional  circle,  belongs  naturally  to 
the  Aristocratic  Circle;  or  of  a  foreigner,  whom 
the  German  does  not  count.    For  the  German  is 


so  THE    GERMANS 

more  generous  than  his  Anglo-Saxon  cousin;  he 
does  not  apply  his  rules  and  standards  to  any  one 
but  himself.    The  Baron  Z.  will  be  quite  ready  to 
accept  the  English  manufacturer  as  a  gentleman, 
because  he  knows  that  in  England  his  own  preju- 
dices do  not  exist,  and  that  in  England  a  manufac- 
turer can  be,  and  very  often  is,  of  good  birth.    But 
toward  his  own  people  this  big-heartedness  at  once 
stops.    For  the  most  part  the  Baron  will  only  asso- 
ciate with  his  equals,  the  officer  with  the  officer,  the 
professor  with  the  professor,  and  so  on.     I  am 
speaking  now,  as  always,  of  the  South  German,  but 
in  this  particular  instance  my  remarks  apply  with 
even  more  truth  to  the  North  German,  who  is  in 
every  way  more  exclusive  and  conservative.   The 
Prussian  officer  is  far  more  intolerant  of  the  civil- 
ian than  his  southern  comrade,  and  if  he  is  "adelig" 
(noble),  he  is  far  more  inclined  to  show  his  con- 
tempt for  the  bourgeois. 

This  brings  me  to  touch  on  the  two  great  divi- 
sions in  German  society — the  aristocracy  and  the 
middle  classes.  As  I  have  said,  in  North  Germany 
the  division  is  more  accentuated.  The  South  Ger- 
man, as  becomes  his  lighter,  more  easy-going 
character,  can  overlook  such  distinctions,  and  some- 
times he  does,  but  not  often.    For  the  Kastengeist 


WK^IKt^mm.mmmmam          A 

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LS.-. 

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Ll-S'BMSSLiS 

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Picturesque   suburbs 


THE   MAGIC   CIRCLES  51 

(caste-spirit,  or  whatever  you  like  to  call  it),  is  by 
no  means  dead  in  Germany.  It  may  be  diminish- 
ing, but  certainly  it  is  still  sufficiently  powerful  to 
inspire  an  outsider  with  awe,  and,  at  first,  indigna- 
tion. When  I  first  came  to  Germany  I  thought  the 
whole  system  a  disgraceful  piece  of  narrow-mind- 
edness, but  gradually  I  grew  accustomed  to  the 
idea,  and  now  look  upon  it  as  a  matter  of  course, 
and  with  as  much  sympathy  as  a  foreigner  can  feel 
for  an  entirely  German  way  of  looking  at  things. 

I  must  confess  that  the  system  sounds  distinctly 
snobbish.  The  officer  sounds  snobbish  when  he  is 
talking  about  the  civilist,  the  barrister  about  the 
merchant,  the  Herr  von  So-and-So  about  the  simple 
Herr  Schmidt,  the  Geheimratin  about  her  next- 
door  neighbor,  the  titleless  Frau  Miiller.  And  yet 
somehow  the  Germans  do  not  impress  me  as  a  snob- 
bish people.  Perhaps  it  is  because  the  German, 
though  his  name  and  his  title  are  everything  to  him, 
does  not  boast  about  either — there  is,  in  fact,  noth- 
ing for  him  to  boast  about,  because  he  is  always 
with  people  of  the  same  rank,  and  does  not  care  to 
be  with  those  whom  he  might  impress,  or  perhaps 
it  is  because  his  snobbishness  rarely  takes  the  most 
objectionable  form  of  "purse  pride."  The  time  has 
not  yet  come  in  Germany  when  riches  alone  can  buy 


52  THE    GERMANS 

position.  The  poverty-stricken  scion  of  an  old  and 
noble  family  still  counts  more  than  the  parvenu 
with  millions ;  the  most  exclusive  doors  open  to  the 
ring  of  a  good  name,  when  money-bags  jingle  in 
vain. 

The  position  of  the  Jew  proves  my  point.  Not 
all  the  pressure  in  the  world  has  enabled  the  wealth- 
iest Jew  either  to  buy  his  way  into  good  society  or 
into  the  army;  the  merchant,  unless  he  have  some- 
thing else  besides  his  money  to  back  his  pretensions, 
can  not  hope  for  connections  in  any  other  circle  than 
his  own.  The  elect  hold  tenaciously  together,  fight- 
ing desperately  against  all  new-comers  and  espe- 
cially against  the  new-comer  who  tries  to  buy  his 
admission.  Snobbish  it  may  be,  narrow-hearted  if 
you  like,  but  for  my  taste,  it  is  an  evil  with  a 

f*ce*<i^^  Vv  healthy  tendency — it  rejects  money  as  a  touchstone ; 

Lt^  .  it  has  surely  a  nobler  savor  about  it  than  the  hideous 

kotowing  to  wealth,  which  flourishes  elsewhere, 
and  I  confess  that  I  prefer  the  needy  German  baron 
with  his  sixteen  quarterings  and  his  snobbishness  to 
our  friend  Sir  Simpkins,  with  his  bought  title  and 
his  snobbishness,  which  is  the  most  pitiful  thing  on 
earth.  At  any  rate,  there  the  fact  stands — of  all  the 
circles  of  German  society,  that  of  the  aristocracy 
is  the  most  exclusive,  the  most  tenacious  of  its  privi- 


THE   MAGIC   CIRCLES  53 

leges.  Other  circles  may  relax  their  severity  to- 
ward each  other — the  Geheimratin,  the  Frau  Pro- 
fessor, the  Frau  Doktor,  the  Frau  Kommerzienrat 
may  all  recognize  each  other  as  equals  and  some- 
times as  friends,  but  the  aristocrat  stands  apart. 

It  is  not  that  he  never  enters  into  foreign  circles 
— he  does,  sometimes,  because  in  these  democratic 
days  circumstances  compel  him,  but  he  remains  an 
exile,  and  he  is  only  really  at  his  ease  among  those 
of  his  own  position.  By  the  other  circles  he  is 
looked  upon  with  mingled  feelings.  The  good 
bourgeois  families — those  who  themselves  can 
trace  back  honorable  if  unadorned  names  into  the 
earlier  centuries — look  upon  him  with  respect,  and 
are  proud  if  they  figure  on  his  visiting  list,  but 
there  is  a  class  by  whom  he  is  detested  with  a  truly 
*^sour  grapes"  detestation.  The  rich  parvenu,  the 
self-made  man  with  democratic  tendencies,  the 
Jew,  all  these  pour  their  spite  and  bitterness  over 
the  "junker,"  and  are  loud  in  their  mockery  of  the 
"Kastengeist"  which  thrusts  them  outside  the  pale. 
Hence  in  the  German  Witzblatter,  where  the  dem- 
ocratic spirit  is  at  its  height,  you  will  always  find 
the  nobleman  and  the  officer  depicted  as  an  imbe- 
cile, degenerate,  arrogant  ne'er-do-weel.  There  is 
no  truth  in  the  picture — no  more  than  if  a  social- 


54  THE    GERMANS 

democrat  were  painted  as  a  red-capped  anarchist 
going  about  with  a  bomb  in  one  hand  and  a  bloody 
knife  in  the  other — it  is  simply  the  venomous  out- 
pourings of  a  great  class-hatred.  The  nobility  is 
an  openly  privileged  class — not  only  in  society,  but 
in  every  branch  of  state  business.  In  the  army  the 
titled  officer  has  always  a  greater  chance  than  his 
"biirgherlicher"  comrade,  and  plain  Lieutenant 
Schmidt  knows  that  unless  he  manifests  exceptional 
abilities  he  is  fairly  certain  to  stumble  at  the  fatal 
"Major's  corner,"  as  it  is  called;  that  unless  he  has 
proved  worthy  of  having  the  patent  of  nobility  con- 
ferred on  him  for  that  purpose,  he  will  never  be 
able  to  hold  a  high  post.  And  in  every  case  where 
the  state  is  concerned  the  same  rule  holds  good — 
family  before  everything.  No  matter  how  poor  the 
family  may  be,  so  long  as  it  is  honorable,  it  can  al- 
ways reckon  on  the  support  of  the  reigning  house, 
and  in  fact  of  every  one  belonging  to  the  mighty 
Brotherhood. 

And  all  thiSj  quite  naturally  enough,  excites 
extreme  bitterness  and  hatred  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who,  perhaps  more  successful,  see  the  gates  shut 
against  them  because  of  their  meaner  birth.  They 
see  in  the  system  a  contemptible  injustice,  an  ab- 
surd relic  from  the  feudal  ages.    And  yet  it  must  be 


THE   MAGIC   CIRCLES  5^ 

said  in  defense  of  the  much-abused  Kastengeist  that 
it  has  its  reasons,  and  it  has  its  virtues.  One  of  the 
virtues  I  have  already  mentioned — its  hereditary 
indifference  to  wealth;  another  is  that  though  the 
nobility  shut  their  doors  against  the  wealthy  par- 
venu, they  fling  them  wide  open  to  the  genius.  The 
rich  Jew  will  be  passed  over,  but  the  poor  musician, 
the  struggling  painter,  if  he  possess  the  divine 
spark  in  his  soul,  can  hope  for  the  highest  privi- 
leges in  the  land,  and  not  hope  in  vain.  I  know  of 
cases  without  number  where  untitled  painters  and 
musicians — peasant's  sons  some  of  them — have 
been  the  guests  and  intimate  friends  of  the  reigning 
duke,  and  have  associated  in  the  very  circle  where, 
had  they  been  the  richest  merchants,  they  would 
have  been  ignored.  The  spirit  which  animated  the 
old  nobility  in  their  patronage  and  love  of  genius 
exists  to-day,  and  is  one  of  the  many  reasons  why 
the  spirit  of  Art  is  at  home  in  Germany,  whereas 
in  other  countries  it  is  more  or  less  a  pampered 
exile. 

Thus  in  justice  we  can  not  call  the  aristocrat  nar- 
row-hearted, unless  it  is  narrow-hearted  to  pick  and 
choose  the  people  with  whom  one  wishes  to  asso- 
ciate. This  he  certainly  does,  and  those  who  wish 
to  pass  into  his  magic  circle  must  undergo  a  severe 


56  THE   GERMANS 

test.  It  is  not  sufBcient,  as  I  have  pointed  out,  that 
a  man  should  be  wealthy,  that  he  should  be  well- 
dressed  and  have  good  manners.  (The  first  of 
these  advantages  can  be  bought,  the  second  is  ex- 
pected of  every  one.)  The  questions  which  will  be 
asked  of  him  are:  ^What  is  your  name?  Who  was 
your  father?  What  was  he?  What  are  you?''  If 
the  name  should  be  Schmidt,  the  father  a  trades- 
man, there  is  only  one  hope  left  in  the  question, 
"What  are  you?"  and  if  the  candidate  can  answer, 
"I  am  a  good  musician,  a  good  painter,  a  genius 
even  in  a  small  way,"  he  is  saved,  and  he  becomes 
a  welcome  guest  even  among  the  highest  and  the 
greatest.  This  is  hardly  snobbery;  it  bears  within 
it  the  germ  of  a  great  idea — the  idea  of  a  class 
which  is  really  elect,  which  really  concentrates 
within  itself  the  best  and  noblest  blood  of  the  na- 
tion. 

Does  the  democrat  protest  that  the  best  and 
noblest  blood  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  aristocracy, 
that  birth  and  family  are  nothing,  no  guarantee  for 
anything  save  perhaps  degeneracy?  I  can  only  an- 
swer that  I  have  no  theories,  and  that  I  can  only  see 
what  my  eyes  show  me.  And  my  eyes  show  me 
that  the  aristocracy  of  Germany — I  include  every 
grade  from  the  baron  to  the  imperial  family — is  one 


THE  MAGIC   CIRCLES  57 

of  the  finest,  if  not  the  finest,  in  Europe,  and  that 
among  its  members  are  to  be  found  the  best  qual- 
ities of  the  Teuton — fidelity,  Pflichtgefiihl,  and  pa- 
triotism— developed  to  the  highest  pitch  of  which 
they  are  capable.  Let  there  be  no  exaggeration. 
There  are  counts  and  countesses  who  would  be  far 
better  in  the  kitchen  than  in  the  court  ball-room; 
there  are  young  scions  of  great  houses  who  are  in 
a  state  of  over-cultivation,  and  consequently  have 
lost  all  trace  of  greatness ;  there  are  cads  and  scoun- 
drels in  this  mighty  family,  as  there  are  in  every 
family  on  earth.  But  I  maintain  that  in  the  bulk 
the  German  aristocracy  has  a  right  to  its  pride  and 
a  right  to  its  exclusiveness.  It  is  a  privileged  class, 
not  because  of  its  past,  but  because  its  present  bears 
the  motto,  '^Noblesse  oblige/'  and  because  it  hon- 
estly strives  to  live  up  to  its  own  high  standards. 

No  doubt  the  ^'Noblesse  oblige''  is  carried  too 
far;  it  leads  men  and  women  to  exaggerate  the  gulf 
between  them  and  the  other  classes,  and  to  maintain 
an  almost  Hebraic  aloofness  from  everything  and 
every  one  suspected  of  being  '^unclean,"  but  the 
principle  is  a  good  one — even  a  great  one.  "We 
must  not  only  abstain  from  evil,  but  from  the 
appearance  of  evil,"  is  the  great  law  which 
governs  the  German  nobleman's  life.    Hence,  al- 


58  THE    GERMANS 

most  inevitably,  the  aristocracy  shrinks  back 
from  the  race  for  wealth.  Let  us  imagine  all  the 
sons  of  our  own  nobility,  from  the  duke  to  the 
lowest  knight  since  time  immemorial,  having  in- 
herited the  titles  and  positions  of  their  fathers, 
retaining  the  original  pride  of  race,  brought 
up  to  despise  money-making  in  all  its  forms, 
and  to  hold  King,  country  and  name  before  all 
other  earthly  goods,  and  consequently  growing 
steadily  poorer,  and  we  have  a  fairly  accurate  pic- 
ture of  the  German  aristocracy  as  it  stands  to-day. 

I  must  repeat  that  there  are  always  the  excep- 
tions, and  no  doubt  the  exceptions  are  increasing. 
Hard  times  are  driving  the  sons  of  old  families  into 
business,  and  the  slow  advancement  in  the  army, 
and  the  inadequate  pay,  keep  many  from  following 
the  hereditary  profession.  But  the  old  spirit  lives, 
and  has  life  in  it  to  last  for  many  generations  to 
come.  So  long  as  it  retains  its  loyalty,  its  high 
standard,  its  rigid  code,  its  inimitable  power  of 
sacrifice,  it  will  always  be  a  mighty  force  in  the 
nation.  It  is  not  always  easy  to  live  up  to  that  high 
standard — the  sacrifices  are  often  very  real,  and 
sometimes  tragic.  I  know  personally  of  cases 
where  gently  nurtured  women  have  endured  hard- 
ships  which   would   have   disgusted   an   English 


THE   MAGIC   CIRCLES  59 

scullery-maid,  and  brought  sacrifices — sometimes 
of  a  whole  life's  happiness — which  would  have 
been  more  than  enough  for  the  sternest  ascetic, 
simply  in  order  that  the  last  representative  of  their 
name  might  live  as  became  his  rank  and  follow  the 
profession  of  his  fathers. 

And  let  no  one  throw  stones  at  that  last  repre- 
sentative because  he  accepts  the  support  and  sacri- 
fices of  women.  He  is  only  obeying  the  law  which 
governs  his  class,  and  he,  too,  has  a  struggle  to  fight 
behind  the  seeming  splendor.  All  this  for  a  name 
— a  phantom!  It  seems  at  first  a  pitiable  waste  of 
human  strength  and  energy,  and  yet  I  suppose  all 
ideals  are  phantoms;  and  surely  better  ideals  of 
this  sort  than  none  at  all,  better  these  fetishes  of 
name  and  honor  than  the  Golden  Calf!  Moreover, 
these  ideals,  phantoms  though  they  seem,  have 
helped  to  make  the  German  nobleman  a  man  apart, 
not  only  in  his  opinions,  his  faults  and  virtues,  but 
in  his  appearance. 

I  have  no  real  explanation  or  theory  to  offer 
for  this ;  but,  as  I  have  remarked  before,  it  is  pos- 
sible for  any  one  with  only  moderate  powers  of 
observation  to  pick  the  nobleman  out  of  a  crowd  of 
ordinary  people.  Is  it  that  he  has  inherited  a  cer- 
tain cachet,  is  it  that  his  position  has  lifted  him  to 


66  THE    GERMANS 

a  certain  dignity,  a  higher  sense  of  personal  respon- 
sibility, his  education  taught  him  more  considera- 
tion for  his  physical  well-being?  I  do  not  profess 
to  know.  Probably  everything  has  combined  to 
produce  in  him  a  distinct  type.  At  any  rate,  wealth 
has  played  no  part  in  the  make-up,  for  the  German 
aristocrat  is,  as  I  have  said,  poor,  and  his  life  is  one 
of  extreme  simplicity.  The  simplicity  is  not  that  of 
the  bourgeois — often  no  more  than  indifference 
and  lack  of  cultivated  taste — it  is  the  simplicity  of 
the  Spartan,  stamped  with  refinement,  and  no  mat- 
ter in  what  circumstances  he  lives,  the  nobleman 
is  unmistakable.  When  he  has  the  advantage  of 
wealth,  his  inherited  taste  and  culture  are  allowed 
full  play,  though  they  scarcely  ever  lead  him  to 
extreme  luxury,  and  never  to  ostentation.  He 
dresses  well  but  simply,  and  his  whole  life  contin- 
ues to  be  marked  with  a  certain  dignified  quiet.  At 
the  bottom,  though  he  appreciates  the  power  of 
wealth,  he  does  not  admire  it  for  itself,  and  he  does 
not  care  for  it  to  be  admired.  He  would  consider 
it  bad  taste  to  flaunt  his  money  in  the  world's  face, 
and  he  avoids  all  "show."  Refinement  of  living 
and  a  quiet  elegance  are  his  sole  luxuries,  but  they 
divide  him  widely  from  the  circle  beneath  him. 
The  circle  beneath  the  aristocracy  is  the  so-called 


COI>VRIQHT,  BV  ONOERWOOO  d  UNDERWOOD,  M.  Y. 


Sans  Souci,  Potsdam 
The  Great  Frederick's  refuge  from  the  cares  of  state 


THE  MAGIC   CIRCLES  6i 

middle-class,  which,  if  solide,  is  usually  neither 
very  refined  nor  elegant.  Here,  too,  there  are  ex- 
ceptions. I  know  bourgeois  families  altogether 
charming  in  themselves  and  in  their  mode  of  life — 
I  speak  simply  of  the  mass.  It  is  the  mass  of  this 
circle  which  the  Englishman  describes  when  he 
comes  home  from  his  German  holiday  as  "typical," 
and  he  compares  it  to  the  well-to-do  middle-class 
in  England,  finding  therefore  sufficient  reason  to 
laugh  at  the  small,  cramped  life  which  his  German 
equivalent  leads.  But  the  English  middle-class  does 
not  yet  exist  in  Germany;  it  is  an  exclusively  Eng- 
lish class,  just  as  the  nobility  in  Germany  is  an  en- 
tirely German  class ;  and  if  it  is  to  be  compared  at 
all,  it  can  only  be  compared  to  the  wealthier  section 
of  the  German  aristocracy.  But  then  this  aristoc- 
racy is  reserved  and  exclusive,  and  the  average 
English  traveler  sees  nothing  of  it. 

I  remember  my  own  surprise  one  evening  when 
a  Gala  opera  was  being  given  in  honor  of  some 
royal  birthday.  I  was  new  to  German  ways  and 
German  people,  and  it  was  a  revelation  to  me  to  see 
the  finely  built,  often  elegantly  dressed  men  and 
women  who  replaced  the  usual  dowdy  audience. 
For  the  first  time  I  was  brought  to  realize  the  exist- 
ence of  a  quiet  world  living  entirely  its  own  life, 


62  THE   GERMANS 

and  showing  itself  rarely  to  the  vulgar  gaze.  Yet 
this  world  is  the  world  to  which  the  English  gen- 
tleman belongs,  it  is  the  only  world  he  has  the  right 
to  compare  with  his  own.  Professionally  he  may 
belong  to  the  same  class  as  the  Doktor  Schulz  or 
the  Fabrikant  Miiller,  but  in  culture  and  upbring- 
ing he  belongs  ^'higher  up."  It  is  the  average 
Englishman's  mistake  on  this  point  which  leads  to 
a  whole  string  of  misconceptions.  We  will  suppose 
that  Mr.  Smith,  lawyer,  goes  to  Germany  with  an 
introduction  to  Herr  Schmidt,  Rechtsanwalt.  He 
will  probably  find  that  in  everything — in  manners, 
in  style,  in  mode  of  life,  his  host  is  at  least  several 
grades  lower  than  himself.  The  Herr  Schmidt  may 
be  the  kindest-hearted  man  alive,  but  he  is  possibly 
in  every-day  life  a  rather  slovenly,  stufify,  disorderly 
person,  who  would  not  think  of  changing  in  the 
evening  and,  perhaps,  neglects  the  morning  tub. 
He  lives  in  the  style  of  a  small  tradesman,  but 
from  a  professional  standpoint  and  also  in  educa- 
tion he  is  Mr.  Smith's  equal.  His  sons  will  no 
doubt  live  as  we  consider  a  gentleman  should  live, 
but  he,  poor  man,  has  fought  for  his  position  too 
hard  to  have  energy  enough  left  to  strive  after  re- 
finement. He  belongs  to  a  class  which  has  strug- 
gled up  heroically  from  the  people,   and  in  a 


THE   MAGIC   CIRCLES  63 

hand-to-hand  battle  with  poverty  won  for  itself  the 
first  great  step  upward — education.  It  is  educated, 
highly  educated  even,  but  the  struggle  has  given  it 
no  time  or  opportunity  to  attain  the  outward  polish 
which  English  people  of  the  same  positions  were 
beginning  to  cultivate  thirty  or  forty  years  ago. 

As  soon  as  we  realize  that  outward  culture  is 
only  the  result  of  inherited  wealth,  we  shall  under- 
stand why  the  German  middle-class  is  so  far  behind 
our  own  that  we  can  hardly  compare  them.  Doc- 
tors, professors,  architects,  lawyers,  small  officials 
— they  belong  for  the  greater  part  to  the  tribe  of  the 
"Spieszbiirgherlicher."  But  it  is  only  a  question  of 
time  before  a  class  will  arise  out  of  their  midst  and 
form  a  real  and  worthy  bridge  between  the  aristoc- 
racy and  the  lower  orders.  How  short  that  time 
will  be  I  will  not  venture  to  say;  but  the  German, 
now  that  he  has  overcome  his  old  stumbling-blocks, 
disunity  and  poverty,  is  moving  fast.  Gradually 
the  upward  striving  middle-class,  the  wealthy  and 
traveled  merchant,  the  nobleman  with  his  ideals  but 
without  his  prejudices,  will  drift  together,  and, 
meeting  at  last  on  common  ground,  form  a  compact 
whole,  the  great  bulwark  of  the  nation  and  the  im- 
mense force  which,  whether  it  be  in  peace  or  war, 
we  shall  one  day  have  to  confront. 


64  THE    GERMANS 

But  all  that  is  in  the  future.  At  present  the  di- 
viding Kastengeist,  having  for  its  raison  d'etre  very 
real  differences,  still  exists  and  holds  class  from 
class,  profession  from  profession.  The  Grosskauf- 
mann,  with  his  wealth  and  resulting  luxury,  but 
without  social  position;  the  professional  man  with 
position,  but  as  yet  without  wealth,  and  conse- 
quently lacking  outward  culture;  the  nobleman 
with  his  inherited  culture,  but  ever  lessening 
wealth,  stand  apart  and  take  small  interest  in  each 
other. 

But  the  gulf  has  narrowed,  and  is  narrowing 
with  every  year. 


CHAPTER  V 

KARLSRUHE  SOCIABILITIES 

My  Karlsruhe  friends — like  most  South  Germans 
— are  sociable  rather  than  hospitable.  That  is  not 
to  say  that  they  are  inhospitable — which  would  be 
a  base  calumny — but  if  they  can  meet  together 
without  any  grand  outlay  for  entertaining,  why,  so 
much  the  better.  And  the  reason  therefor  is  ex- 
tremely simple — most  of  them  can  not  afford  it. 
The  first  fact  that  every  one  must  grasp  in  consider- 
ing German  life  outside  the  great  cities  is  that 
riches,  even  moderate  riches  in  our  sense  of  the 
word,  are  still  rare,  and  where  they  are  not  rare 
they  are  at  least  so  new  that  the  possessors  have  not 
learned  to  use  them.  They  cling  tenaciously  to  the 
careful,  economical  ways  of  their  neighbors,  and 
an  invitation,  no  matter  how  small,  is  always  an 
event. 

I  know  an  English  lady  who  came  to  Karlsruhe 
with  very  warm  introductions,  and  was  disgusted 
because  one  family  fulfilled  its  obligations  toward 

65 , 


66  THE    GERMANS 

her  with  an  afternoon  tea!  She  would  have  felt 
differently  if  she  had  known  what  preparations, 
what  anxiety  that  tea  had  cost!  I  suppose  she 
thought  that  the  cakes  and  little  sandwiches  were 
the  usual  things,  and  that  she  had  been  simply 
asked  to  share  in  a  common  household  meal.  But 
indeed  no!  Each  cake,  each  sandwich,  was  a  lux- 
ury indulged  in  on  only  great  occasions;  and  had 
my  English  friend  paid  a  surprise  visit  she  would 
have  found  the  family  drinking  coffee,  at  most, 
with  an  accompaniment  of  rolls  and  bread  and  but- 
ter. 

Thus  to  be  invited  to  a  tea  in  Karlsruhe,  whether 
it  be  chez  the  countess  or  the  simple  bourgeoise,  is 
always  more  or  less  a  serious  business.  There  is  no 
idea  of  "dropping  in."  "Dropping  in"  is  in  fact  a 
very  rare  custom.  People  pay  their  formal  calls 
at  twelve  o'clock  before  dinner,  and  are  usually  not 
even  received.  The  called-upon  knows  that  the 
caller  is  on  a  mighty  round,  and  the  card  tells  her 
all  that  the  caller  wanted  to  say,  "Don't  forget  me 
when  you  are  inviting — I  have  called!"  In  the 
afternoon  only  the  most  intimate  members  of  the 
circle  are  allowed  the  privilege  of  "dropping  in," 
and  even  then  the  treatment  of  the  "dropper-in" 
(forgive,  reader,  the  truly  German  temptation  to 


KARLSRUHE    SOCIABILITIES       67 

coin  words!)  would  shock  an  English  hostess  be- 
yond expression.  We  will  suppose  that  you  are  an 
intimate  friend  of  Frau  Schmidt.  Chance  has  led 
you  to  call  on  her  family  at  tea-time.  She  will  re- 
ceive you  with  open  arms,  you  will  be  planted  on  the 
sofa  in  the  place  of  honor  and  implored  to  stay — 
but  no  refreshments  will  be  offered  you.  If  there  are 
other  members  of  Frau  Schmidt's  family  present 
they  will  slip  out  one  by  one,  and  return  with  a 
pleasant  odor  of  coffee  about  them.  And  you  must 
not  be  surprised  or  hurt.  Frau  Schmidt  is  really 
glad  to  see  you,  but  it  does  not  occur  to  her  that 
you  might  want  the  coffee  or  the  plain  bread  and 
butter  which  formed  the  rest  of  her  repast. 

But  if  she  asks  you  to  tea  that  is  another  matter. 
Then  she  moves  heaven  and  earth  and  all  the  con- 
fectioners in  Karlsruhe  to  make  the  invitation  a 
magnificent  function ;  and  you,  as  becomes  so  seri- 
ous a  business,  will  be  expected  to  take  off  your 
coat  and  hat  and  prepare  to  make  an  afternoon  and 
an  evening  of  it.  According  to  your  hostess'  means 
and  position  it  will  be  a  terrible  or  a  tolerable  time 
— I  must  confess  that  it  is  not  likely  to  be  amus- 
ing. We  will  suppose  that  she  belongs  to  the  well- 
to-do  aristocracy.  In  that  case  the  entertainment 
takes  the  form  of  an  "at  home,"  to  which  both 


68  THE   GERMANS 

sexes  are  invited.  Tea  is  handed  round,  and  people 
wander  about  and  talk  to  one  another  or  listen 
to  the  music.  For  of  course  there  is  always  some 
one  in  the  company  who  can  either  play  or  sing — 
usually  very  well.  So  far  so  good — quite  a  Van- 
glaise  except  for  the  last  point — but  the  difference 
comes  in  when  you  realize  that  it  is  a  Great  Invi- 
tation. You  can  not  wander  in  for  half  an  hour 
or  so  and  then  wander  out  again.  You  have  got  to 
stay — unless  you  are  possessed  of  unusual  cunning 
— right  to  the  bitter  end.  And  the  bitter  end  may 
be  anywhere  between  seven  and  eight  o'clock. 

In  these  "at  homes"  the  four-hour  sitting  is  toler- 
able, if  only  because  of  the  mixed  crowd  and  the 
consequent  amusement  of  being  able  to  watch  and 
observe ;  but  a  really  genuine  "Spieszburgherliche" 
afternoon  tea-party  is  the  most  deadly  and  exhaust- 
ing thing  I  know.  It  begins  at  four  o'clock,  and  it 
goes  on  inevitably  till  eight.  There  are  usually  two 
sets  of  people  invited — young  girls  and  old  ladies. 
After  an  enormous  sit-down  tea,  in  which  every- 
thing is  present  in  the  edible  line  from  Caviar 
Brotchen  to  ices,  the  two  parties  divide  and  sit 
huddled  together  in  adjoining  rooms,  and  are 
bored  to  extinction.  No  one  dares  move  until  the 
eldest  lady  decides  to  take  her  departure,  and  as 


KARLSRUHE    SOCIABILITIES       69 

Fate  has  it  that  she  must  always  be  the  one  and 
only  person  to  enjoy  herself,  there  is  no  hope  of 
escaping  before  the  four  hours  have  elapsed. 

Thus  you  can  see  that  a  German  afternoon  tea 
can  be  a  ponderous  and  serious  thing,  not  to  be 
despised  and  not  to  be  partaken  of  in  too  large  quan- 
tities. It  has  the  fault  of  most  German  entertain- 
ments— it  lasts  too  long.  A  German  dinner-party 
has  exactly  the  same  disadvantage.  It  is  not  that 
so  much  is  eaten  or  drunk,  but  it  never  comes  to  an 
end.  The  people  sit  and  sit  and  talk  and  talk  till 
you  would  think  that  no  human  constitution  could 
stand  more,  and  as  every  one  uses  his  natural  voice, 
the  confusion  is  sometimes  nerve-wracking.  Of 
course  the  dinner  is  a  very  great  event  in  most 
families,  and  it  is  an  honor  to  be  invited.  In  fact  it 
is  an  honor  to  be  invited  to  anything,  and  that  Is 
why  Karlsruhe  hospitality  is  usually  rather  con- 
strained, rather  formal.  The  invited  knows  the 
grandeur  of  the  occasion,  and  is  consequently  too 
awed  to  be  at  his  ease. 

As  to  the  practice  of  receiving  visitors  for  an 
actual  stay,  it  is  the  rarest  thing  of  all.  As  I  have 
before  intimated,  the  South  German's  tendency  is 
to  let  himself  go  in  his  own  home,  and  the  anxieties 
and  efforts  which  the  presence  of  a  stranger  entails 


70  THE    GERMANS 

exhaust  him.  It  is  not  as  though  a  guest  could 
slip  in  with  the  rest  of  the  household ;  special  ar- 
rangements have  to  be  made  on  his  account,  and 
many  inconveniences  suffered.  In  North  Germany 
this  is  different;  there  the  country  life  gives  a 
greater  freedom  and  opportunity  for  hospitality. 
In  South  Germany  the  flat-system  and  the  extreme 
simplicity  in  which  the  German  lives,  is  in  itself  a 
barrier  against  a  constant  flow  of  guests,  and  one 
can  safely  say  that  for  him  the  greatest  luxury  pos- 
sible is  to  invite.  And  yet,  as  I  have  said,  he  is 
sociable.  No  man  on  earth  more  so.  The  English- 
man, in  spite  of  his  ''open  house  and  week-end 
visits,"  etc.,  is  a  recluse  and  a  hermit  compared  to 
the  Teuton,  who  is  never  so  happy  as  when  he  is 
with  other  people — in  a  crowd  if  possible.  What- 
ever he  undertakes  he  likes  to  be  in  company. 

Hence  flats  and  crowded  railway  carriages  have 
no  horrors  for  him;  he  detests  "English  hotels,"  be- 
cause English  people  do  not  mix  with  strangers, 
prefer  separate  tables,  and  hold  themselves  gen- 
erally aloof.  His  wife  and  his  children  are  just  like 
him.  On  their  travels  they  are  ready  to  make 
friends  with  every  one,  and  at  home  they  organize 
their  Kranzchen.  Show  me  the  German  woman 
or  the  German  Backfische  who  does  not  belong  to 


A  UNOERWOOO,  M.  r. 


Picturesque  buildings  in  a  picturesque  setting 


KARLSRUHE    SOCIABILITIES       71 

a  Kranzchen!  If  it  is  the  Backfische  it  can  be  any 
sort  of  a  Kranzchen — a  Tanzkranzchen,  an  Eng- 
lischkranzchen,  a  Franzosischekranzchen,  a  Nah- 
kranzchen.  A  certain  number  of  her  school-friends 
(of  the  same  circle,  bien  entendu)  come  together 
once  or  twice  a  week  and  read,  sew,  or  talk  Eng- 
lish or  French  together.  They  take  it  in  turns  to 
visit  one  another's  houses,  so  that  in  one  winter  each 
family  has  had  the  Kranzchen  once.  Her  mother's 
life  is  built  up  on  the  same  system.  She,  too,  be- 
longs to  a  Kranzchen.  I  know  quite  elderly  women 
who  regularly,  twice  a  week,  read  Shakespeare  to- 
gether in  English  with  the  assistance  of  an  English 
teacher.  Others,  the  grandmothers  chiefly,  play 
whist  together,  or  work  together,  in  fact  do  any- 
thing so  long  as  it  is  together. 

On  the  other  hand,  club  life  is  almost  unknown 
among  the  masculine  element.  It  is  considered 
"bad  tone"  for  a  man  to  go  out  in  the  evenings 
without  his  wife,  and  the  whole  rigor  and  serious- 
ness of  an  English  club  would  anyhow  appal  the 
German's  cheerful,  talkative  temperament.  To  sit 
for  hours  in  dead  silence  and  read  the  newspapeis 
is  a  proceeding  which  has  no  sort  of  attraction  for 
him.  One  newspaper  is  enough,  and  that  much  he 
can  enjoy  in  the  bosom  of  his  family.    Curiously 


72  THE   GERMANS 

enough,  the  lower  one  goes  in  the  social  scale  the 
more  one  finds  "societies"  which  dimly  resemble 
the  club.  Every  little  shopkeeper  belongs  to  a 
Verein.  It  is  usually  a  "Gesangsverein."  A  few 
dozen  men  of  the  same  class  join  together,  and 
once  or  twice  a  week  meet  in  a  Wirtshaus  (public- 
house)  and  sing — sometimes  under  the  direction  of 
a  proper  teacher.  I  do  not  think  the  neighbors  care 
for  it,  but  that  is  a  detail.  There  are,  of  course, 
other  Vereins  for  shooting,  bowls,  for  the  old  sol- 
diers, etc.,  but  the  idea  is  always  the  same,  mutual 
support  and  the  pleasure  of  being  together  for  a 
set  purpose,  with  as  little  expense  as  possible. 

These  Vereins  and  Kranzchen  play  a  very  im- 
portant part  in  German  social  life,  and  to  a  great 
extent  take  the  place  of  regular  entertaining,  but 
they  do  not,  strictly  speaking,  include  hospitality. 
In  the  Kranzchen,  for  instance,  the  members  sit 
together  for  two  hours  or  so  and  then  go  away — 
probably  without  having  partaken  of  any  form  of 
refreshment.  No  inhospitality  is  meant.  They  ar- 
range to  have  their  tea  beforehand,  and  thus  the 
hostess  is  spared  all  expense  and  trouble.  I  think 
this  capacity  for  living,  from  a  social  standpoint, 
without  material  sustenance  is  proof  of  the  Ger- 
man's extreme  love  of  company.   If  the  inevitable 


KARLSRUHE    SOCIABILITIES       73 

cup  of  tea  was  ignored  in  England,  I  am  quite  sure 
that  afternoon  calls  would  droop  and  languish.  In 
England  the  cup  of  tea  is  the  raison  d'etre  of  the 
whole  performance.  So  long  as  she  has  a  cup  of 
tea  in  her  hand,  so  long  the  English  guest  can  hold 
out  with  gossip.  Five  minutes  after  she  has  said 
*'No  more,  thank  you,"  she  goes.  The  business  of 
the  afternoon  is  over.  The  German  lady  is  differ- 
ent. She  comes  to  talk,  to  read,  or  to  work,  as  the 
case  may  be,  and  tea  would  be  an  interruption  and 
a  nuisance.  The  other  day  we  invited  a  young  mu- 
sician for  the  evening — after  supper,  of  course — in 
order  that  we  might  play  some  trios  together.  I 
was  too  English  not  to  insist  on  some  sort  of  re- 
freshment being  handed  round,  so  we  made  the 
most  delightful  little  sandwiches  and  cakes.  Great 
indignation  on  the  part  of  our  guest  as,  after  the 
first  "movement,"  the  edibles  were  handed  round. 
"We  are  here  to  play — not  to  eat!"  was  his  stern 
protest,  and,  crushed  and  humbled,  I  hurried  my 
offerings  out  of  sight. 

There  is  one  form  of  entertainment  which  must 
not  be  forgotten  where  youth  is  concerned,  and  that 
is  the  Tanzerei.  Everybody  in  Germany  dances 
passionately,  if  only  for  the  never-to-be-forgotten 
reason  that  it  is  an  excuse  to  come  together,  and 


74  THE    GERMANS 

consequently  everybody,  rich  or  poor,  endeavors 
to  give  a  Tanzerei  at  least  once  a  year.  A  Tanzerei 
is  not  a  ball,  and  English  people  would  hardly 
honor  it  w^ith  the  title  of  dance.  It  can  take  place 
at  any  time  in  the  afternoon  or  evening,  and  there 
are  rarely  more  than  eight  or  ten  couples,  but  of 
all  typical  German  forms  of  pleasure  it  is  the  most 
delightful.  Here  there  is  no  stiffness  and  formality. 
The  drawing-room  carpet  is  rolled  up,  a  piano 
player  engaged,  everybody  dances  with  everybody 
without  programme,  games  are  played — the  more 
childish  the  better — and  the  German  reveals  him- 
self as  a  charming,  unaffected  host  and  guest. 

In  the  well-to-do  families  a  Tanzerei  is  always 
delightfully  arranged — an  elegant  ball  in  minia- 
ture— with  a  dainty  sit-down  supper  and  a  profu- 
sion of  flowers ;  but  perhaps  it  would  be  of  more 
interest  to  describe  the  genuine  ^'Spieszbiirgher- 
liche  Tanzerei" — the  great  social  effort  as  made  by 
a  family  of  the  class  which  I  have  already  desig- 
nated as  "educated." 

I  was  invited  to  just  such  an  entertainment 
shortly  before  Christmas.  The  host  was,  of  course, 
a  man  with  a  long  title,  the  hostess  a  stout,  good- 
natured,  motherly  person  with  three  plain  daugh- 
ters,   the    place    of    entertainment    a    far    from 


KARLSRUHE    SOCIABILITIES       7^? 

commodious  and  somewhat  stuffy  flat  of  eight 
rooms.  English  people  in  the  same  circumstances 
would  not  have  dreamed  of  giving  a  dance.  They 
would  have  thought  it  beneath  their  dignity  to  re- 
veal such  a  shabby  condition  of  things.  They  would 
have  saved  for  years,  or  got  into  debt,  and  hired  a 
hall  and  a  caterer,  and  done  the  thing  in  style.  They 
would  have  been  ashamed  of  everything,  knowing 
pretty  well  that  their  friends  would  have  put  the 
price  on  the  wine  and  the  food,  and  known  exactly 
how  much  the  new  dress  had  cost,  and  whether  it 
was  new  at  all,  or  only  a  turned  and  dyed  edition 
of  last  year's.  But  mine  host  was  not  in  the  least 
ashamed — he  had  no  reason  to  be.  He  knew  that 
everybody  knew  who  he  was  and  what  his  income 
was,  and  that  his  friends,  living  no  better  or  worse 
themselves,  would  not  be  critical,  but  come  and 
enjoy  themselves,  and  make  the  best  of  everything. 
And  I,  knowing  what  I  was  to  expect,  did  likewise. 
Punctual  to  the  hour  I  clambered  up  the  steep 
stone  steps  which  led  to  the  third  floor,  in  company 
with  other  little  parties  of  guests,  most  of  whom 
had  come  on  foot  with  wraps  and  goloshes.  We 
smiled  uncertainly  at  one  another  as  we  stood 
crowded  together  on  the  landing,  and  after  a  mo- 
ment an  excited  little  maid  with  a  white  cap  and 


76  THE   GERMANS 

apron — for  the  occasion — opened  the  door,  and 
with  grins  and  nods,  as  though  she  were  joint 
hostess  and  delighted  to  see  us,  led  the  way  into  the 
bedroom  which  had  been  turned  into  a  ladies' 
garde-robe.  No  doubt  it  was  the  eldest  daughter's 
bedroom,  but  everything  personal  had  been 
cleared  away,  and  everything  was  in  immaculate 
order.  There  was,  of  course,  a  great  deal  of  gig- 
gling and  whispering  among  the  younger  mem- 
bers of  the  party.  Everybody  was  fighting  for  a  last 
glimpse  in  the  little  looking-glass,  and  pathetic  ap- 
peals, "Maria,  Elsa,  is  everything  all  right  be- 
hind?" were  loud,  until  at  last  we  were  ready,  and 
a  general  move  was  made  toward  the  room.  The 
room  was  the  salon,  and  mine  host's  study,  which 
had  been  sacrilegiously  demolished  of  its  solemnity 
and  turned  into  a  second  ball-room  for  the  over- 
flow. The  carpets  had  disappeared;  stiff  plush 
chairs  were  arranged  around  the  walls;  the  parquet 
flooring  glistened  threateningly  at  unwary  feet,  and 
told  its  tale  of  a  long  afternoon's  polishing,  in 
which — who  knows? — even  the  Geheimrat  himself 
might  have  lent  a  hand. 

A  few  guests  had  already  arrived,  and  were 
standing  about  in  little  groups.  For  the  most  part 
they  consisted  of  young  people  who,  as  always  in 


KARLSRUHE   SOCIABILITIES       77 

English  eyes,  looked  a  good  deal  older  than  they 
really  were  (in  Germany  a  girl  is  distinctly  passee 
at  twenty-five) .  The  elder  folk  had  already  retired 
to  the  chairs,  and  one  could  see  how  the  cheerful 
matrons  in  black  silk  and  straining  gloves  were  ex- 
changing compliments  on  their  respective  daugh- 
ters. With  a  little  previous  experience  one  could 
follow  every  word  they  said. 

"Ach,  Hebe  Frau  Professor,  how  charming  your 
Elsa  is  looking  to-night — so  much  grace  and  An- 
mut!  And  that  sweet  dress — how  it  becomes  her! 
I  wish  I  could  get  something  so  "passend'^  for  my 
Marie  r 

Tears  of  gratitude  and  motherly  pride  rushed  to 
the  Frau  Professor's  bright  eyes.  I  could  not  see 
them,  but  I  knew  they  were  there,  because  I  know 
the  Frau  Professor. 

"She  made  it  herself,"  she  then  began  to  explain 
eagerly.  "I  can  not  tell  you  how  hard  the  poor 
child  worked  to  get  it  done  in  time.  Is  not  the  stuff 
wonderful?  It  looks  like  silk,  but  it  isn't.  It's  a 
new  stuff,  which  looks  just  like  the  real  thing,  and 
is  half  the  price." 

General  exclamations  of  wonder!  It  was  then 
the  Frau  Professor's  turn  to  tell  her  friend  how 
"reizend"  Marie  was,  what  sweet  manners,  what 


78  THE    GERMANS 

grace.  Everybody  was  sincerely  delighted  with 
everybody  else.  Everybody  was  "ein  Herz  und  eine 
Seele,"  as  they  themselves  would  have  said.  I 
looked  about  me.  I  picked  out  the  much  prized 
Marie  and  Elsa,  and  discovered  them  to  be  plain, 
good-natured-looking  girls  in  rather  short  and  de- 
cidedly home-made  frocks,  modestly  decollete. 
Their  masses  of  heavy,  somewhat  colorless  hair 
were  done  neatly,  but  without  much  taste,  and  they 
wore  white  mittens.  Altogether  my  English  friends 
would  have  thought  very  little  of  them,  I  am 
afraid,  but  they  were  enjoying  themselves  as  though 
they  were  kings'  daughters  and  wore  queens' 
dresses.  The  elder  and  best-looking  of  the  three 
house-daughters  was  tete-a-tete  with  her  fiance,  a 
serious  young  man,  who  appeared  some  years  older 
than  he  really  was — perhaps  the  problem  of  a  dou- 
ble menage  on  nothing  a  year  worried  him.  Mine 
hostess  told  me  that  the  Braut  was  nearly  ready 
with  her  trousseau,  and  that  it  was  very  grand  in- 
deed. I  could  quite  believe  it,  since  it  had  been  the 
object  of  the  most  careful  thought  for  at  least  two 
years.  Altogether  the  Geheimratin  was  in  great 
spirits,  and  she  sailed  proudly  from  one  little  group 
to  another  like  a  frigate  with  every  stitch  of  canvas 
stretched.    Her  husband,  the  Geheimrat,  was  less 


KARLSRUHE   SOCIABILITIES       79 

prominent.  A  shy  little  man,  in  a  badly-fitting  suit 
of  evening  clothes,  he  gave  the  impression  of  being 
nervously  pleased,  and  much  in  av^e  of  his  wife's 
sang  froid. 

At  last  all  the  guests  had  arrived,  twelve  de- 
clared dancing  couples,  and  the  elderly  people  who 
might  be  tempted  into  a  waltz  later  on  in  the  even- 
ing. Only  one  person  was  still  lacking — the  Or- 
chestre.  Then  he  too  arrived — a  stout  gentleman 
with  a  bundle  of  old  music  under  his  arm,  who, 
after  a  courteous  inclination  toward  the  rest  of  the 
company,  seated  himself  at  the  piano  against  the 
w^all,  and  plunged  boldly  into  the  Blue  Danube, 

I  must  mention  that  the  Orchestre  is  a  great  per- 
son in  Karlsruhe.  Everybody  knows  him — he  is  the 
patron  at  every  feast,  rich  or  poor.  In  the  daytime 
he  gives  music  lessons,  in  the  evening,  for  the  sum 
of  ten  marks,  he  will  play  you  dance  music  till  your 
feet  are  worn  out,  beaming  the  while  on  the  whirl- 
ing couples  with  kindly  paternal  interest.  And 
what  feeling  there  is  in  his  waltzes!  No  wonder 
the  Geheimrat  threw  off  his  embarrassment,  and 
v/ith  a  deep  bow  offered  his  unpracticed  powers  to 
the  Frau  Professor,  a  very  portly  person  in  mauve, 
who  looked,  should  any  accident  befall,  as  though 
she  would  inevitably  crush  her  cavalier  out  of  all 


8o  THE    GERMANS 

recognition.  But  fortunately  the  Geheimrat  had  a 
good  eye  and  a  firm  arm.  He  steered  round  the 
little  room  with  complete  success,  and  the  ball  thus 
opened  proceeded  merrily.  As  usual  there  were 
three  or  four  superfluous  men,  passionately  fond 
of  dancing  and  equally  anxious  to  have  their  turn, 
so  that  there  was  no  rest,  no  sitting-out  (sitting-out 
in  any  form  is  absolutely  tabooed  everywhere) . 

One  or  two  of  them  danced  very  well,  the  greater 
part  moderately,  one  or  two  skirt-rendingly,  but 
well  or  ill  they  all  danced.  There  were  no  lag- 
gards, and  they  bumped  or  piloted  their  partners 
round  the  crowded  room  with  equal  cheerfulness. 
And  their  manners  were  exquisite.  Yes,  it  is  not  to 
be  denied  that  their  coats  were  far  from  being  well 
cut,  their  shoes  not  all  above  criticism,  their  whole 
appearance  neither  elegant  nor  distingue,  but  they 
had  a  kindly  honest  courtesy  about  them  which 
atoned — obliterated — everything  else.  They  did 
not  dance  as  though  it  were  a  favor,  or  wander 
about  with  their  hands  in  their  pockets  looking 
intensely  bored.  They  did  not  leave  the  conversa- 
tion to  their  partners,  and  answer  in  sulky  mono- 
syllables. They  appeared  grateful  for  attention, 
and  did  their  uttermost  to  be  entertaining.  I  no- 
ticed this  latter  feature  at  the  supper-hour,  when, 


KARLSRUHE   SOCIABILITIES       8i 

on  the  arm  of  a  young  architect,  I  was  led  into  the 
dining-room.  Truth  to  tell  there  was  little  of  the 
dining-room  left.  It  was  all  table,  with  just  enough 
room  at  the  sides  and  end  for  the  chairs  and  the 
people  who  were  to  sit  on  them.  But  what  did  it 
matter  if  there  was  scarcely  room  for  one's  elbows? 
We  were  all  in  such  good  spirits  that  the  constant 
apologies  to  one's  neighbor  only  added  to  the  gen- 
eral hilarity. 

Thus  we  began  the  feast.  It  was  a  very  sim- 
ple affair.  Cold  meat,  ham,  and  sausage  (alas! 
I  am  fallen  so  low  that  I  have  a  shamefaced 
liking  for  German  sausage,  which  is  made  of  gtc- 
gee  and  bow-wow,  as  every  Englishman  knows!) 
with  Italian  salade  came  first,  followed  by  cheese 
and  Pumpernickel,  the  whole  accompanied  by  bot- 
tles of  wholesome,  if  somewhat  sour,  landwine.  All 
through  this  repast  my  young  architect  never 
stopped  talking — in  fact  everybody  talked,  and  as 
loud  as  they  possibly  could,  so  that  it  was  difficult 
to  hear  your  own  voice.  But  my  companion  had 
good  lungs,  and  somehow  or  other  kept  me  thor- 
oughly entertained.  At  last,  after  all  the  necessary 
toasts  had  been  given,  we  returned  to  the  "ball- 
room," and  the  fun  continued  until  one  o'clock, 
with   intervals   for   lemonade   and  beer,   handed 


82  THE    GERMANS 

round  by  our  earlier  acquaintance,  the  excited 
maid-of-all-work,  who,  in  spite  of  fatigue,  was  still 
as  cheerful  and  smiling  as  ever.  We  danced  the 
lancers  with  stately  gravity,  the  minuet-waltz  with 
grace,  the  Francaise  with  a  truly  wonderful  ''go," 
but  at  no  time  did  we  descend  to  romping.  Every- 
thing retained  a  certain  stamp  of  decorum. 

After  midnight  signs  of  fatigue  made  them- 
selves manifest;  the  air  had  become  distinctly 
"dry,"  and  the  dancing  had  been  kept  up  with  such 
vigor  that  everybody  was  beginning  to  think  of  the 
home  journey.  A  last  waltz  was  ordered.  The  Or- 
chestre  poured  forth  a  pot-pourri  from  his  whole 
repertoire,  and  one  danced  with  everybody  in  turn. 
Then  the  piano's  tone  grew  softer  and  slower,  a  last 
trill,  a  last  run,  a  general  sigh,  half  of  exhaustion, 
half  of  regret,  that  one  can  not  partake  even  of  good 
things  for  ever,  and  the  Great  Evening  was  at  an 
end.  Of  course  there  was  the  inevitable  standing 
about  and  talking;  congratulations  pour  in  from 
every  side,  and  I,  having  long  since  learnt  my  les- 
son, was  not  backward  in  my  expressions  of  grati- 
tude and  admiration.  Consequently  my  kind  hosts 
and  I  parted  on  the  best  of  terms,  and  I  wended  my 
way  homeward  with  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that  it  had  been  a  "typical  German  evening." 


KARLSRUHE   SOCIABILITIES       83 

Do  not,  I  beg,  look  contemptuous  and  say,  "I 
told  you  sol  That  is  just  the  sort  of  third-rate  un- 
couth sort  of  entertainment  I  should  imagine  the 
Germans  enjoying."  It  is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  typi- 
cal of  one  class,  but  there  are  other  classes  and 
other  entertainments  which  would  no  doubt  sur- 
prise you.  Moreover,  I  must  remind  you  that  my 
Geheimrat  is  poor.  He  may  be  well-to-do  in  his 
own  eyes,  because  he  has  neither  pretension  nor 
vanity,  but  you  would  catalogue  him  as  poor, 
especially  considering  the  price  of  living  in  Karls- 
ruhe. Thus,  if  he  were  what  you  would  call  re- 
fined, he  would  not  be  able  to  entertain  at  all,  and 
would  have  to  live  in  a  miserable  state  of  solitude. 
And  solitude  is  the  one  thing  he  can  not  stand,  so 
he  entertains,  and  does  it  in  the  only  way  his  means 
and  his  consideration  for  the  future  allow  him.  No 
doubt  it  is  a  very  inelegant  bourgeois  way,  but 
then  he  is  bourgeois — ^'spieszbiirgherlich,"  as  he  is 
described  by  his  own  countrymen — and  it  is  quite 
good  enough  for  his  tastes  and  the  taste  of  his 
friends.  Moreover,  there  is  something  so  harmless 
and  natural  and  friendly  in  the  whole  thing,  that 
unless  one  is  blinded  by  prejudice  and  snobbery  of 
the  worst  type,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  warmly 
toward  the  host  and  lenient  toward  the  feast.    I 


84  THE    GERMANS 

am  not  even  sure  that  there  is  not  an  atmosphere 
in  those  little  evenings  which  is  healthier,  saner, 
more  human,  more  genuine,  more  promising,  than 
in  the  grandest  London  functions,  and  I  make  no 
pretense  at  jeering  at  the  fashions  of  the  simple 
Geheimrat  and  his  simpler  Geheimratin.  They 
lead  the  simple  life  because  they  are  simple,  and 
they  are  such  elemental  folk,  so  unpretentious  and 
natural,  that  one  can  see  straight  through  to  their 
hearts,  which  are  above  all  else  honest  and  kind. 
For  my  part  that  is  all  that  matters,  and  he  who 
can  afford  to  jeer  at  the  dowdy  clothes  and  the  beer 
and  the  sausage  has  my  sincere  sympathy! 


CHAPTER  VI 

CHRISTMAS 

Germany  without  Christmas — or  better — Christ- 
mas without  Germany!  For  me  the  one  state  is  as 
unthinkable  as  the  other.  After  comparing  my  ex- 
periences, I  can  but  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
there  is  no  country  in  the  world  where  Christmas 
flourishes  with  so  much  of  its  old  truth,  so  much  of 
its  own  true  feeling — in  fact,  where  Christmas  is 
so  intensely  "Christmasy,"  as  in  the  Fatherland.  I 
do  not  want  to  hurt  anybody^s  feelings  with  this 
statement,  and  I  must  at  once  admit  that  my  experi- 
ence is  not  very  wide.  It  extends  only  over  Eng- 
land, France,  Belgium,  and  Italy,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  that,  for  instance,  the  Yankees  make  the  sea- 
son an  occasion  for  great  magnificence,  the  Rus- 
sians for  pomp  and  ceremonial,  and  so  throughout 
the  whole  Christian  world,  each  land  imprinting 
its  own  national  characteristics  upon  the  festival. 

I   am   afraid  my  recollections   of   an   English 
Christmas  are  rather  dull.   The  one  real  joy  was 

8s 


86    .  THE    GERMANS 

the  Christmas  shopping,  but  the  day  itself  was  like 
a  glorified  Sunday,  on  which  one  ate  a  good  deal 
more  than  was  good  for  one,  and  had  to  maintain 
through  plum-pudding  and  every  other  similar  evil 
an  appearance  of  unabated  cheerfulness.  In  my 
childhood,  I  believe,,  the  matter  was  better;  there 
was  the  thrilling  excitement  of  the  stocking  which 
kept  up  a  genuine  animation  until  after  breakfast, 
but  then  things  fell  rather  flat — it  was  impossible 
to  get  away  from  the  feeling  that  it  was  Sunday. 

In  Rome  my  feelings  were  entirely  different. 
Strange  as  it  may  sound  in  this  stronghold  of  early 
Christianity,  in  spite  of  pomp  and  ceremonial, 
Christmas  itself  seemed  absolutely  out  of  its  ele- 
ment. I  could  imagine  it  as  a  lonely,  unhappy 
spirit  wandering  among  a  crowd  of  strangers, 
who,  while  loading  it  with  beautiful  and  precious 
gems,  neither  understood  its  heart  nor  its  language. 
Where  I  was  staying  the  people  had  erected  a 
magnificent  Christmas  tree,  and  covered  it  with 
decorations  of  every  description,  but — somehow  it 
was  not  a  real  Christmas  tree,  any  more  than  the 
Christmas  itself  was  real.  It  was  a  transplanted 
thing,  artificially  kept  alive  in  a  foreign  soil. 

Perhaps  the  pomp  of  it  all  stood  in  the  way,  for 
I  always  think  of  the  Christmas  spirit  as  a  simple 


'  CHRISTMAS  87 

little  child,  who  would  be  very  happy  to  sing  carols 
beside  a  tiny  shrub  in  some  poor  German  garret, 
but  would  shrink  back  involuntarily  from  the  offer 
of  gems  and  rich  incense.  And  it  is  that  childish, 
open-hearted  simplicity  which,  so  it  seems  to  me, 
makes  Christmas  essentially  German,  or  at  any  rate 
explains  why  it  is  that  nowhere  else  in  the  world 
does  it  find  so  pure  an  expression.  The  German  is 
himself  simple,  warm-hearted,  unpretentious,  with 
something  at  the  bottom  of  him  which  is  childlike 
in  the  best  sense.  He  is  the  last  "Naturmensch" 
in  civilization,  and  the  Naturmensch  is  always 
naive,  always  single-minded,  whether  for  good  or 
evil.  There  are  fewer  problems  in  his  character, 
fewer  dark,  mysterious  places,  fewer  Machiavel- 
lian twists  and  turnings;  his  heart  is  easily  stirred, 
easily  moved  to  respond  to  the  touch  of  all  that  is 
sincerely,  truly  human.  With  such  a  man  the 
"Christkind"  can  be  itself  without  make-believe 
and  artifice — it  can  display  its  humblest  attributes, 
which  are  its  noblest,  and  know  that  he  will  under- 
stand, that  he  will  treasure  it  the  more  because  it 
was  born  in  a  poor  manger,  and  carries  no  richer 
gift  in  its  feeble  hands  than  an  all-embracing  love. 
Yes,  all  that  is  something  for  the  German  "Ge- 
miit!"  It  suits  the  German  as  well  as  a  play  suits  an 


88  THE   GERMANS 

actor  for  whose  character  and  temperament  it  has 
been  especially  written.  He  revels  in  it,  and  I  really 
believe  that  the  German  Atheist  ''understands"  the 
spirit  of  Christmas  better  than  hundreds  of  good 
Christians  from  other  lands.  Perhaps  the  atmos- 
phere helps.  Perhaps  the  crisp  north  winds  blow- 
ing over  the  Black  Forest,  where  the  fir-tree  bears 
its  burden  of  virgin  snow,  waiting  for  the  hour 
when  it  shall  be  called  thence  to  decorate  some  hu- 
man home,  carries  with  it  a  mysterious  perfume,  a 
mysterious  something  which  I  can  not  describe,  but 
which  I  feel  and  understand.  Perhaps  the  knowl- 
edge that  all  those  around  me  feel  it  and  under- 
stand it  as  I  do  makes  its  power  all  the  greater.  It 
seems  to  bring  us  all,  rich  and  poor,  friend  and  foe, 
into  a  wonderful  communion  which  we  can  not  and 
will  not  resist. 

I  write  this  while  the  snow  is  still  on  the  ground, 
and  I  can  still  feel  vibrations  from  the  emotion 
which  the  great  evening  stirs  to  life  in  most  Ger- 
man hearts.  That  sounds  as  though  only  German 
hearts  could  experience  it,  but  as  I  am  English  the 
contradiction  is  obvious.  I  merely  mean  that  there 
is  something  in  the  atmosphere,  and  that  whereas  in 
England  Christmas  was  for  me  a  much  over-rated 
festivity,  it  has  become  a  time  of  real  deep  rejoicing 


CHRISTMAS  89 

to  which  I  look  back  with  tenderness,  to  which  I 
look  forward  with  hope. 

So  much  for  the  ^^Stimmung" — or  at  least  so 
much  as  the  reader  no  doubt  cares  to  hear  about 
it,  for  personally  I  could  go  on  for  ever  with  my 
efforts  to  describe  what  is  indescribable.  Neverthe- 
less, as  I  fear  the  word  "Stimmung"  may  reoccur 
often  in  this  chapter  and  elsewhere,  I  will  hasten  to 
explain  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  have  not  been 
initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  that  great  and  un- 
translatable German  word,  that  it  means  the  "some- 
thing" which  can  unite  an  immense  assembly  of 
strangers  in  one  bond  of  enthusiasm,  of  joy,  or  of 
sorrow.  It  is  the  longed-for  guest  at  all  festivities, 
the  silent  companion  in  every  hour  of  general 
mourning  and  at  Christmas — why,  at  Christmas  it 
is  everything,  everywhere.  It  hovers  in  the  streets, 
in  the  gay  shop  windows,  over  the  Christmas-tree 
— it  follows  the  Christkind  wheresoever  it  goes, 
and  without  it  Christmas  would  be  no  more  than  a 
cold  and  dreary  specter. 

And  now  for  facts,  and  I  would  that  the  mys- 
terious spirit  which  I  have  endeavored  to  describe 
would  guide  my  pen  and  help  me  to  touch  them 
with  the  charm  which  they  possess  for  those  who 
know  a  German  Christmas!  To  begin  with,  I  must 


90  THE    GERMANS 

mention  a  peculiarity  which,  I  believe,  is  Karls- 
ruhe's very  own.  As  a  rule  extremely  indifferent  to 
fashion,  which  it  follows— so  the  bitter  saying  goes 
— some  ten  years  after,  it  is  yet  very  attentive  to 
seasons.  Carnival  is  signaled  immediately  after 
Christmas  by  the  appearance  of  fancy  dresses  and 
masks  in  the  shop  windows;  on  Ash  Wednesday 
everything  pertaining  to  such  frivolity  is  bundled 
out  of  sight,  and  one  sees  the  most  unlikely  objects 
labeled  as  suitable  presents  for  confirmation  can- 
didates; after  that  comes  Easter  with  its  eggs,  and 
Easter  hares  in  every  conceivable  form  of  eatable 
stuffs,  more  or  less  dangerous  for  the  human  con- 
stitution. In  summer  there  is  a  lull,  during  which 
the  shopkeeper  seems  to  lose  interest  in  life,  but 
from  October  onward  one  notices  a  slight  stir. 

Half-shamefaced  indications  are  to  be  observed 
which  are  intended  to  remind  the  passer-by  that 
the  hour  is  not  far  off  when  he  must  be  prepared  to 
open  his  purse  as  wide  as  it  will  stretch.  And  then, 
lo  and  behold!  we  have  scarce  passed  into  drear 
November  when  bold  notices  bearing  "Weihnachts- 
geschenke"  in  fancy  letters,  with  holly  and  icicles 
for  ornamentation,  appear  in  the  shop-windows, 
and  skates  dangling  in  long  rows  are  marked  for 
the  benefit  of  the  ignorant  shopper  as  "seasonable." 


CHRISTMAS  91 

Few  people  buy  anything  save  perhaps  those  with 
relations  in  far-off  countries,  and  the  shopkeeper 
remains  fairly  unobtrusive  with  his  suggestions, 
but  Christmas  is  already  in  the  air.  Three  Sundays 
before  the  day  the  signal  is  given,  not  only  in  Karls- 
ruhe, but  all  over  Germany.  It  is  the  so-called 
Copper  Sunday,  when  all  the  shops  are  left  open 
so  that  the  poor  folk  from  the  country,  bound  all 
the  week  by  their  business,  may  also  come  and  take 
their  share  in  the  general  present-buying. 

The  title  "Copper"  is  derived  from  the  mer- 
chants' expectations  and  realizations,  which,  on  the 
first  of  the  three  Sundays,  are  not  very  great.  For 
the  country  people  share  the  common  human  fail- 
ing of  "putting  things  off,"  and,  knowing  that  they 
have  time  enough  before  them,  they  let  the  first 
opportunity  slip  past.  But  the  next  Sunday  shows 
an  improvement ;  the  streets  are  more  crowded,  there 
is  an  increased  hustle  and  bustle ;  here  and  there  one 
sees  an  old  Black  Forest  peasant  with  his  long  black 
cloak  flapping  about  his  knees,  his  red  waist- 
coat, his  flat  felt  hat,  and  the  inevitable  umbrella. 
His  wife  walks  sedately  at  his  side,  her  costume  an- 
swering to  the  locality  from  which  she  comes,  but 
usually  with  the  quaint  wing-shaped  head-dress  of 
broad  stiff  silk. 


92  THE    GERMANS 

The  greater  bulk  of  the  crowd,  however,  is 
composed  of  the  population  from  the  neighbor- 
ing villages,  all  in  their  best  clothes.  Everybody 
comes;  grandparents,  husband  and  wife,  children 
of  all  sizes  and  ages,  young  men  with  their 
"Schatz,"  all  eager  to  buy  and  get  rid  of  their  hard- 
earned  savings  as  fast  as  they  can.  And  the  shop- 
keeper washes  his  hands  in  invisible  soap,  and 
beams.  It  is  the  Silver  Sunday!  In  the  week  that 
follows  the  excitement  scarcely  abates,  for  the 
Karlsruher,  who  on  Sunday  yields  place  to  the  vis- 
itors, has  much  to  do  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  At 
last!  The  Golden  Sunday  is  there!  Well  may  the 
eager,  exhausted,  but  always  cheerful,  always  will- 
ing servers  rush  from  one  customer  to  another,  try- 
ing to  do  each  and  all  justice. 

They  are  indeed  great  men  in  their  profes- 
sion, these  servers !  They  know  their  people — *'Sie 
kennen  ihre  Leute!"  They  do  not  say  to  him, 
'What  may  you  wish  to  buy?"  when  the  coun- 
tryman and  his  family  march  stolidly  into  the  shop. 
They  know  that  such  a  question  would  throw  him 
into  the  greatest  possible  confusion.  They  pick  up 
the  nearest  object  at  hand  and  hold  it  out  to  him  as 
though  it  were  an  art  treasure.  'This  is  just  the 
thing  you  are  looking  for!"  they  exclaim  trium- 


COPYRIGHT.  BV  ONOEdWOOO  a.  I 


Decorating  steins  for  Christmas  gifts 


CHRISTMAS  93 

phantly.  "Just  see  how  elegant,  how  beautiful, 
how  useful,  how  cheap!  It  is  the  latest  fashion. 
We  have  sold  hundreds.  I  am  sure  it  is  exactly 
what  you  wanted."  And  of  course  it  is  just  the 
thing  he  wanted,  and  he  is  most  grateful  that  the 
fact  has  been  pointed  out  to  him.  He  goes  off  with 
his  treasure,  and  the  shopkeeper  beams  upon  his 
subordinate  who  has  thus  adroitly  exploded  one 
more  damp  firework.  This  procedure  occurs 
chiefly  in  the  so-called  "cheap  shops,"  where  you 
can  buy  everything  in  a  small  way  that  the  ordinary 
human  requires;  but  it  is  altogether  rather  char- 
acteristic of  the  Karlsruher  salesman,  who  treats 
his  customers  as  though  they  were  only  partly  re- 
sponsible for  their  actions,  and  not  to  be  too  much 
humored  as  regards  their  tastes  and  wishes. 

At  any  rate,  thus  the  eager  shopping  goes  on,  and 
as  the  time  draws  nearer  a  veritable  emigration  to 
the  station  adds  to  the  bustle.  Everybody  who 
does  not  belong  to  Karlsruhe  is  en  route  for  home. 
Officers  in  civilian  clothes — rare  sight! — and  sol- 
diers in  their  very  newest  uniforms,  with  quaint 
little  bundles  and  the  cone-shaped  cases  with  the 
helmet  which  is  to  cause  thrills  in  the  hearts  of  the 
village  maidens  on  Sunday — such  are  the  chief  ele- 
ments in  the  great  exodus.    And  at  length  the  even- 


94  THE    GERMANS 

ing  arrives  I  One  would  be  inclined  to  think,  judg- 
ing by  a  last  glance  at  the  streets,  that  every  one  had 
left  their  shopping  to  the  last  moment.  The  bustle, 
if  anything,  has  increased,  although  the  hour  of  the 
''Besherung"  (present-giving)  is  almost  at  hand. 
And  indeed  it  is  surprising  what  a  lot  of  little  odds 
and  ends  crop  up  which  have  hitherto  been  over- 
looked. Perhaps  the  star  at  the  top  of  the  tree  has 
broken  and  a  new  one  has  to  be  bought  in  all 
haste,  or  the  candles  have  run  out  or  the  tinsel  has 
proved  too  tarnished,  thanks  to  its  annual  use.  So 
some  energetic  soul  rushes  out  at  the  last  moment  to 
make  the  necessary  purchases.  I  need  hardly  men- 
tion that  all  over  Germany,  Christmas  Eve,  and  not 
Christmas  Day,  is  the  great  time.  Christmas 
Day  is  more  or  less  a  church  festivity,  and,  ex- 
cept that  the  present-giving  is  over,  is  quite 
English. 

For  my  part  I  like  the  evening  ceremony  the 
best.  In  the  early  morning  you  feel  cold  and  sleepy 
— "niichtern,"  as  the  Germans  would  say — and  you 
have  scarcely  time  to  enjoy  yourself  before  the  hour 
of  church  is  at  hand,  and  the  ^^Stimmung"  is  ab- 
ruptly broken,  or  at  any  rate  turned  in  another  di- 
rection. But  on  Christmas  Eve  the  good  spirits 
may  mount  from  degree  to  degree  without  check  or 


CHRISTMAS  95 

hindrance.  The  early  morning  indifference  melts ; 
by  the  afternoon  you  have  begun  to  remark  that 
you  are  just  "in  the  mood"  for  Christmas;  by  six 
o'clock  the  sight  of  the  gay  shops  and  the  bright 
faces  has  warmed  you  to  a  glow  of  excitement  in 
which  there  is  mingled  a  soft-hearted,  and,  alas!  all 
too  ephemeral  tenderness  toward  your  fellow-crea- 
tures. Seven  o'clock  marks  the  high  tide.  Let  me 
suppose  that  you  are  one  of  the  mysterious  workers 
who  for  days  past  have  been  rushing  to  the  door  to 
intercept  letters  and  parcels,  and  hold  back  in- 
quisitive and  hopeful  people  who  are  desperately 
anxious  to  know  if  the  yellow  ''Gepackwagen"  has 
not  brought  them  something.  Your  post  has 
proved  no  sinecure.  Apart  from  the  difficulty  of 
trying  to  answer  questions  without  telling  the  truth, 
and  without  telling  a  lie,  there  is  some  genuinely 
hard  work  connected  with  the  preparations.  Imag- 
ine a  magnificent  green  fir-tree  some  ten  or  eleven 
feet  high,  with  branches  numerous  and  broad  in 
proportion,  and  imagine  that  it  must  be  decked 
from  head  to  foot  with  every  conceivable  ornament, 
with  candles,  tinsel,  wax  angels,  glistening  balls, 
glass  icicles,  and  frost-covered  acorns.  Everybody, 
of  course,  has  his  own  ideas  of  decoration,  but  the 
general  rule  is  the  brighter  and  gayer  the  better. 


96  THE    GERMANS 

What  a  work  it  is !  Even  when  the  hero  of  the 
evening  is  crowned  with  the  triumphant  golden 
star,  there  is  still  much  to  be  done.  The  presents 
have  to  be  arranged — rarely  on  the  tree  itself,  for 
in  our  magnificent  days  the  fir-tree's  sturdy  arms 
would  not  be  strong  enough  to  support  the  burden 
— but  on  tables,  each  member  of  the  family  having 
his  own.  All  through  the  day  the  room  in  which 
the  great  ceremony  is  to  take  place  is  rigorously 
shut  off;  but  at  seven  o'clock  the  folding  doors  are 
thrown  open,  and  an  eager,  impatient  crowd  of  old 
and  young  swarm  through  with  many  ^'oh's"  and 
"ah's"  of  admiration.  And  indeed  our  green  friend 
is  a  magnificent  sight.  All  the  lights  have  been 
turned  out,  and  only  the  candles  affixed  to  the 
broad  branches  have  been  left  to  throw  their  cheery 
reflections  on  the  faces  which  cluster  round.  One 
of  the  twigs  has  caught  fire,  and  there  is  a  deli- 
cious indescribable  ^'Tannenduft,"  which,  if  you 
shut  your  eyes,  transports  you  far  away  into  the 
heart  of  the  great  forest,  and  further  still — back 
to  all  the  Christmases  you  have  hidden  in  your 
memory. 

But  there  is  no  time  now  for  fancies  or  recol- 
lections. The  reality  and  the  presents  are  all-pow- 
erful, and  you  must  take  your  part  in  the  general 


CHRISTMAS  97 

uproar.  Everybody  is  delighted,  everybody — in 
true  German  fashion — declares  that  it  is  the  finest 
tree  they  have  ever  seen,  that  it  has  been  decorated 
as  no  tree  was  ever  decorated  before,  and  you,  the 
worker,  stand  proudly  by,  an  object  of  gratitude 
and  profound  admiration.  Only  a  short  moment  is 
given  to  the  proud  fir-tree.  Already  eager  eyes  are 
wandering  around  the  room  in  search  of  the  table, 
longing  for  the  moment  when  all  mysteries  shall  be 
swept  away.  But  in  Germany  you  must  be  patient 
— or  rather  you  must  allow  yourself  to  be  worked 
up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement  by  endless 
procrastinations  and  delays.  No  one  must  touch  or 
even  study  his  table  until  the  time-honored  carols 
have  been  sung.  So  the  musical  member  of  the 
family  is  hurried  to  the  piano,  and  the  rest  crowd 
round  and  join  lustily  in  the  favorite,  "Oh,  Tannen- 
baum,  oh,  Tannenbaum,  wie  griin  sind  deine  Blat- 
ter!'' or,  "Stille  Nacht,  heilige  Nacht,"  until 
human  nature  can  bear  no  more.  Then  the  signal 
is  given — a  general  sigh  of  relief,  a  general  rush! 
The  rest  I  need  not  describe  to  you.  In  the  confu- 
sion of  flying  paper,  bursting  strings,  exclamations, 
congratulations,  and  thanks,  there  is  nothing  very 
national — except  perhaps  in  the  last  item,  which  is, 
of  course,  Teutonically  exuberant. 


98  THE    GERMANS 

So  an  hour  passes,  and  then  dinner  is  announced 
amidst  sounds  of  satisfaction,  for  unless  you  are  one 
of  the  impatient  spirits  who  has  not  been  able  to 
resist  the  temptings  of  the  edible  gifts,  you  have 
an  excellent  appetite.  The  meal  is  not  a  very  big 
one,  however,  most  people  preferring  to  keep  the 
great  feast  for  the  following  day,  and  perhaps  it 
is  just  as  well,  for  I  doubt  if  the  Stimmung  would 
stand  the  strain  of  a  genuine  Christmas  dinner — I 
am  convinced  that  it  would  get  decidedly  sleepy., 
As  it  is,  everybody  remains  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and 
after  the  usual  toasts  have  been  given  the  confusion 
in  the  fir-tree's  Throne-Room  is  cleared  away  and 
games  are  played.  If  there  are  children,  so  much 
the  better.  If  not,  the  old  people  become  children 
for  the  occasion.  Nothing  is  too  young  or  too  fool- 
ish, and  I  am  not  sure  if  the  old  children  are  not  the 
most  foolish  of  all. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  uproar  the  door  is 
opened  mysteriously,  just  wide  enough  to  admit 
a  huge  parcel,  which  falls  like  a  bomb  in  the  more 
or  less  surprised  assembly.  The  unseen  anarchist 
closes  the  door,  the  packet  is  seized  upon,  and  the 
name  of  the  addressee  read  aloud.  The  receiver 
opens  his  parcel  disgustedly,  for  he  is  German,  and 
knows  what  awaits  him.    The  first  layer  of  paper 


CHRISTMAS  99 

reveals  a  second  address,  and  thus  the  parcel  passes 
from  hand  to  hand,  growing  smaller  with  each 
change,  so  that  at  the  end  nothing  remains  but  a  tiny- 
little  box,  which  at  last  reaches  the  right  owner. 
Let  him  beware!  Let  him  remember  his  sins,  his 
weaknesses,  his  dearest  little  peccadillo,  and  be  pre- 
pared to  find  them  laid  bare  before  the  world  in 
doggerel  rhyme,  accompanied  by  some  appropriate 
"present."  Has  the  Backfisch  with  the  two  mag- 
nificent braids  and  the  red  cheeks  been  coquetting 
with  the  young  ensign  from  the  Grenadiers?  Her 
gift  may  be  a  tin  soldier  wrapped  in  a  high-flown 
poem  such  as  Backfisch  love.  Has  the  poor  Eng- 
lish innocent  been  guilty  of  some  frightful,  humil- 
iating error  in  the  German  tongue?  Be  sure  that 
it  has  been  treasured  up  throughout  the  year  for 
this  occasion,  and  that  the  wit  of  the  family  has  ex- 
erted his  powers  to  the  uttermost  to  bring  it  home 
to  the  victim.  Such  is  the  Jul-Klap,  one  of  the  old- 
est German  customs  dating  far  back  into  the  hea- 
then days,  when  it  had  no  doubt  some  other  and 
long-forgotten  meaning. 

This  ceremony  over,  the  games  are  resumed,  un- 
til the  family,  exhausted  but  extremely  happy, 
gathers  up  its  treasures  and  retires  to  bed,  leaving 
the  patron  fir-tree,  whose  candles  have  long  since 


loo  THE    GERMANS 

sputtered  out,  to  silence  and  darkness.  Such,  then, 
is  Christmas  Eve,  so  it  is  in  modified  or  glorified 
degree  in  every  home  in  Germany,  from  the  Emper- 
or's palace  to  the  peasant's  hut.  Pay  a  visit  to  the 
market-place  a  few  days  before  Christmas,  and  you 
will  see  that  it  is  not  only  the  well-to-do  who  stand 
in  anxious  discussion  before  the  forest  of  fir-trees 
which  await  purchasers.  There  is,  for  instance, 
that  poor  old  woman,  thinly  clothed,  with  a  shawl 
over  her  gray  hair,  bearing  off  a  tiny  shrub  with 
such  pride  and  love  that  one  would  think  she  had 
won  the  King  of  the  Black  Forest.  Probably  she 
will  not  have  enough  to  eat  on  Christmas  Eve,  un- 
less some  kind  soul  takes  pity  on  her,  but  at  least  she 
has  her  tree,  and  when  the  great  hour  arrives  she 
will  light  the  two  pale  candles  and  stand  before  the 
glory  of  it  all  with  the  glad  knowledge  that  even 
she  is  not  shut  out  from  the  universal  rejoicings. 

Or,  if  you  will,  take  a  walk  through  the  streets 
before  your  own  festivities  begin  and  look  into  the 
lighted  windows.  Everywhere  you  will  see  the 
same  picture.  Everywhere,  in  garret  and  in  palace, 
the  world  is  paying  homage  to  the  green  king  of 
Christmas  time.  It  is  not,  as  it  is  growing  to  be 
with  us,  an  essentially  children's  festival,  though  I 
wish  every  English  child  at  least  one   German 


CHRISTMAS  loi 

Christmas,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  the  unrivaled 
toys;  it  is  Everybody's  Festival,  as  it  was  surely 
meant  to  be,  and  it  does  not  matter  how  old  or  how 
poor  or  how  lonely  you  are — you  must  take  part. 

But  it  is  difficult  to  be  old  at  such  a  time,  and  still 
more  difficult  to  be  lonely.  If  you  have  no  family 
of  your  own,  some  other  family  is  sure  to  hold  out 
welcoming  arms,  unless,  of  course,  you  are  a  second 
Scrooge.  On  the  whole,  however,  guests  are  very 
seldom  seen  in  the  circle,  because  no  German 
would  dream  of  willingly  absenting  himself  from 
his  own  hearth.  It  is  the  one  fixed  time  in  the  year 
when,  whether  from  far  or  near,  the  various  mem- 
bers of  the  family  assemble  together  under  the  pa- 
ternal roof,  and  he  who  stays  away  is  accounted 
heartless  and  indifferent.  Thus,  unless  your  own 
family  is  in  itself  large,  you  must  be  prepared  to 
spend  your  festivity  in  a  small  circle,  for  guests  are 
decidedly  rare.  Perhaps  a  stray  officer,  left  in  com- 
mand over  the  holidays,  or  some  homeless  exile 
whose  people  are  far  away  over  the  seas,  will  come 
and  assist  your  merriment,  but  one  can  not  count  on 
them. 

It  once  happened  that  my  German  friend  and 
I  were  left  solitary  through  unforeseen  circum- 
stances, but  we  did  not  let  that  spoil  our  Christmas. 


102  THE    GERMANS 

Quite  the  contrary.  We  took  the  greatest  pains 
with  our  ten-foot  tree,  prepared  each  other's  tables, 
and  sang  carols  (with  rather  curious  accompani- 
ments, for,  alas !  we  are  neither  piano  virtuosi) ,  and 
to  reward  our  efforts  the  Christmas  Stimmung  did 
not  in  the  least  fail  us.  I  am  afraid  that,  had  I  been 
left  to  myself,  I  should  have  been  content  to  leave 
my  Christmas  to  the  cook,  and  let  the  rest  of  the 
ceremonial  go  as  ''not  worth  while,"  but  the  Ger- 
man spirit  was  unconquerable,  and  not  a  detail  was 
neglected. 

As  to  Christmas  Day  there  is  not  much  to  be  said. 
At  nine-thirty  one  goes  to  church  for  the  service 
which  begins  at  ten,  and  one  can  be  thankful  to  find 
breathing  room.  For  the  Germans — even  if  they 
have  not  been  in  church  the  whole  year — always 
put  in  an  appearance  at  Christmas  and  Easter,  with 
the  result  that  unless  one  goes  early  it  is  impossible 
to  find  a  place.  After  church  comes  the  great  din- 
ner— sometimes  enlivened  with  an  English  plum- 
pudding — to  which  guests  are  invited,  and  which, 
if  it  is  thoroughly  German,  will  last  hours.  As  I 
have  remarked  before,  it  is  not  that  so  much  is 
eaten,  but  the  Teuton  has  the  failing  of  never  know- 
ing when  to  bring  a  social  gathering  to  an  end. 
When  he  once  starts  enjoying  himself  he  goes  on 


■>      ^   y^   ■>   ■>  ■>      1 


>       J        y    :>  y 


COPVRrGHT,  ev  ONDEnwOOO  i 

A  famous  tavern  adjoining  a  church 


C       f  f 


CHRISTMAS  103 

until  he  drops  with  exhaustion.  Thus  we  can  leave 
Christmas  Day  at  this  point,  knowing  that  the  din- 
ner is  the  chief  event,  which  will  last  so  long  that 
everybody  is  incapacitated  and  incapable  of  any 
further  effort. 

On  the  second  Christmas  day,  as  it  is  called,  peo- 
ple flock  in  their  best  clothes  to  the  Hoftheater, 
where  a  "Festopera"  is  being  given — usually 
"Lohengrin"  or  the  "Meistersingers."  The  week 
that  follows  depends  greatly  on  the  weather  and  on 
individual  tastes.  Crowds  pour  up  into  the  Black 
Forest,  where,  if  it  is  a  genuine  Christmas,  the  snow 
is  already  thick  and  firm.  Skiing,  bob-sleighing, 
skating,  is  then  the  order  of  the  day,  until  the  all- 
too-short  holidays  are  at  an  end.  I  am  convinced 
the  English  school-boy  would  be  speechless  with 
indignation  over  these  holidays !  A  fortnight  is  the 
extreme  limit,  and  given  only  to  boarding-schools 
whose  inmates  have  long  distances  to  go  to  reach 
their  homes.  The  other  educational  institutions 
have  rarely  more  than  ten  days,  and  sometimes  less. 
From  the  twenty-third  of  December  to  the  second 
of  January  is  the  usual  thing.  Hence  by  Sylvester 
Abend — New  Year's  Eve — the  joys  of  freedom  are 
nearly  over,  and  there  is  a  last  grand  festivity  which 
serves  the  double  purpose  of  welcoming  the  New^ 


I04  THE    GERMANS 

Year  and  adding  a  crowning,  if  farewell,  touch  to 
the  great  ten  days. 

As  in  France,  the  New  Year  is  a  far  more  im- 
portant time  than  it  is  with  us.  True,  no  presents 
are  given  then,  except  to  the  tradespeople,  who  re- 
ceive their  "New  Year  boxes,"  but  cards  are  far 
more  numerous  than  at  Christmas,  and  as  guests  can 
be  invited,  it  is  possible  to  organize  the  festivity  on 
bigger  lines.  Thus  dances  or  dinner-parties  help 
to  wile  away  the  hours  to  midnight.  As  the  magic 
hour  approaches,  the  Christmas  tree,  which  still 
reigns  in  the  drawing-room,  is  lighted  for  the  last 
time,  and  the  ''Bleigieszen"  is  begun.  This  cere- 
mony consists  of  boiling  specially  prepared  pieces 
of  lead  in  a  spoon  over  a  candle;  each  guest  takes 
his  spoonful  and  throws  it  quickly  into  the  basin  of 
water,  which  is  held  ready.  According  to  the  form 
which  the  lead  takes,  so  will  his  fortune  be  in  the 
coming  year.  Sometimes  the  shapes  are  absolutely 
"impossible,"  though  there  is  always  some  hopeful 
spirit  in  the  company  who  professes  to  see  a  resem- 
blance to  some  object  or  another.  At  any  rate,  the 
smallest  resemblance  is  sufficient,  and  ships  (which 
indicate  a  journey),  or  hearts  (which  have,  of 
course,  only  one  meaning) ,  or  some  other  equally 
significant  shape  is  usually  discerned.    In  the  mid- 


CHRISTMAS  105 

die  of  this  fortune-telling  the  clock  strikes,  a  gen- 
eral cry  of  "Prosit  Neu  Jahr!"  a  general  shaking  of 
hands,  and,  if  it  can  be  afforded,  champagne  flows 
— in  moderate  quantities.  Outside  on  the  streets 
the  cry  of  "Prosit  Neu  Jahr!"  is  echoed  from  cor- 
ner to  corner,  one  hears  the  crack  of  forbidden  fire- 
works and  the  clash  of  bells.  Sylvester  Abend  is  at 
an  end,  and  if  one  is  sober-minded  and  eager  to  be- 
gin the  New  Year  in  the  right  spirit,  one  goes  to 
bed — if  not,  well,  one  dances  till  the  early  hours 
are  past,  with  the  motto — 

"Drink  and  be  merry,  for  to-morrow  we — work!" 

Thus  the  fir-tree's  reign  is  over;  it  is  packed 
ignominiously  in  the  garret  or  planted  in  the  gar- 
den, and  forgotten  until  it  is  too  wretched  an  object 
to  be  tolerated  longer.  What  does  it  matter?  Next 
year  there  will  be  another  and  perhaps  a  finer  one 
— at  least  we  are  sure  to  think  it  finer — and  with  it 
will  come  another  happy  German  Christmas.  For 
the  German  Christmas  is  really  happy — there  is  no 
make-believe  about  it.  It  is  the  reality  of  what  we 
call  a  "good  old  English  Christmas" — a  fable  of 
times  long  past  or  never  existent,  whose  only  me- 
mento is  to  be  found  on  the  Christmas  cards  with 
their   holly  and   mistletoe,   and   coaches   driving 


io6  THE    GERMANS 

through  the  snow,  and  brimming  bumpers.  I  fear 
we  are  losing  the  Spirit  of  Christmas — Dickens' 
legacy.  Perhaps  we  have  frightened  it  away  with 
our  fine  culture  and  superabundance  of  wealth  and 
luxury — but  it  is  not  dead.  It  has  taken  up  its 
home  in  the  simple  German  hearts,  whose  warmth 
and  sincerity  have  kept  it  alive,  and  will  keep  it 
alive,  until  the  sad  time  comes  when  they  too  will 
forget  to  be  simple. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  STUDENTS  AND  THE  EMPEROR'S  BIRTHDAY 

It  seems  to  me,  on  reviewing  my  German  year,  that 
the  winter  season  is  the  one  most  full  of  events. 
Scene  after  scene  crowds  before  my  mind's  eye, 
and  no  sooner  is  Christmas  relegated  to  the  past 
than  the  Emperor's  Birthday,  with  its  festivities, 
civil  and  military,  arrives  to  break  the  monotony  of 
peaceful  days.  There  is  no  town  or  village,  even 
here  in  South  Germany,  where  the  Imperial  spirit 
is  less  deeply  rooted,  which  does  not  celebrate  the 
occasion  with  flags  and  bunting  and  festive  clothes, 
and,  above  all,  festive  meals.  The  bourgeois  ele- 
ment in  the  larger  towns  enjoys  ponderous  banquets 
and  delivers  ponderous  if  patriotic  speeches;  the 
military  parades  in  gala  uniform,  dances  at  the 
Kaiser  Ball,  and  is  generally  very  much  en  evi- 
dence; the  Court  attends  the  opera,  where  three 
cheers  are  called  for  His  Imperial  Majesty;  and 
the  students,  here  as  everywhere,  and  as  in  every- 
thing, go  about  their  celebrations  in  their  own  pe- 
culiar way. 

107 


io8  THE    GERMANS 

And  really  to  understand  their  '^way" — in  fact, 
to  understand  them  at  all — one  must  not  be  satis- 
fied with  the  superficial  consideration  which  most 
foreigners  bestow  upon  them.  One  must  not  be  sat- 
isfied with  a  mere  glance  at  the  outside  of  things, 
or  allow  one's  judgment  to  be  swayed  by  the  unre- 
liable literary  efforts  of  the  traveler  who  has  nei- 
ther taken  the  time  nor  trouble  to  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  an  institution  which  he  does  not  hesitate 
to  criticize  and  condemn.  Let  us,  therefore,  sweep 
out  of  our  minds  the  picture  of  the  German  student 
which  English  people  usually  accept  as  genuine. 
The  fat,  ungainly,  lazy,  stupid  beer-drinker  no 
doubt  exists,  but  he  is  no  more  typical  than,  I  hope, 
were  the  drunken  soldiers  whom  I  had  the  humilia- 
tion of  observing  as  they  reeled  over  a  certain  Eng- 
lish station.  The  typical  German  Corps  student  is 
in  the  first  place  a  gentleman ;  he  lives  and  acts  as 
such,  and  though  theoretically  free,  he  is  bound  by 
self-made  laws  which  are  severer  than  any  of  those 
governing  our  own  universities.  I  emphasize 
Corps  student,  because  there  are  all  sorts,  and  con- 
ditions of  students,  and  the  difference  in  class  can 
be  as  great  as  that  between  an  engine-driver  and  a 
count's  son.  This  is  especially  the  case  in  a  town 
like  Karlsruhe,  where  there  is  a  Polytechnicum  or 


».    5    >    > 


Court   of    Heidelberg    Castle 


U\\'i{j'ii 


c    'c'         t    c   tec   c        c   'c- 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      109 

Hochschule  for  the  study  of  practical  sciences.  In 
a  university,  as  in  Heidelberg,  the  differences  are 
not  so  marked,  though  the  elements  are  often  very 
questionable,  as  is  inevitable  w^here  the  expenses 
are  so  low  and  social  position  of  so  little  account. 
Practically  any  one  can  be  a  student,  but  not  every 
one  can  be  a  Corps  student. 

There  is  a  legend  that  once  upon  a  time  four  Ger- 
mans were  wrecked  together  on  a  desert  island. 
The  first  thing  they  did  before  even  attempting  to 
dry  themselves  was  to  form  a  '^Verein"  (a  society 
or  union).  After  a  few  days  they  quarreled,  the 
Verein  split  up  into  two  Vereins,  which,  so  the 
legend  goes,  are  quarreling  with  each  other  to  this 
day.  The  story  is  very  characteristic,  and  explains 
the  whole  student  system,  which  is  founded  on  the 
German's  love  of  fighting,  his  sociability,  and  his 
intense  dislike  for  independence  in  so  far  that  it 
entails  loneliness.  Every  German,  rich  or  poor, 
belongs  to  a  Verein.  If  he  is  musical  he  belongs  to 
a  Gesangsverein ;  if  he  is  a  soldier  he  is  a  member 
of  the  Kriegsverein ;  if  a  sportsman  to  Schutzen- 
verein;  and  so  on  ad  nauseam.  The  student  is  the 
example  for  the  rule.  He  can  not  live  alone.  He 
found  the  fact  out  generations  ago  when  the  Corps 
were  first  founded.    This  took  place  at  the  begin- 


no  THE    GERMANS 

ning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  when  the  students 
at  the  universities  divided  themselves  according 
to  their  various  nationalities  into  what  was  then 
called  ^'Landmannshaften,"  wearing,  after  they 
had  been  officially  recognized,  distinguishing  caps 
and  colors.  From  these  Landmannshaften  have 
arisen  the  Corps,  which  fundamentally  are  the 
same,  though  the  members  are  no  longer  recruited 
from  the  same  state.  Thus  the  Corps  Bavaria  may 
be  composed  entirely  of  North  Germans,  and  here 
and  there  an  entire  foreigner  is  admitted  into  the 
circle.  But  the  original  laws  exist  almost  un- 
changed, and  they  enclose  the  student  in  a  self-gov- 
erning world  of  his  own. 

It  must  not  be  imagined  that  a  Corps  is  a  kind 
of  school-boy  clique.  The  Corps  are  under  a  reg- 
ular government — the  University  Corps  under 
what  is  called  the  Kosener  Senioren  Convent,  the 
Polytechnicum  Corps  under  the  Weinheimer  Sen- 
ioren Convent.  No  new;  Corps  can  be  founded 
without  the  consent  of  these  Convents,  no  law 
changed  or  inaugurated,  and  in  the  event  of  the 
death,  marriage  or  expulsion  of  a  member  they 
must  immediately  be  informed.  Thus  the  happy 
being  who  believes  that  this  student's  world  is  a 
place  of  liberty  and  license,  is  as  much  deceived  as 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      iii 

the  student  himself  when  he  triumphantly  sings, 
"Frei  ist  der  Bursch!"  The  government  of  the 
Corps  is  indeed  so  absolute,  the  laws  so  rigid  and 
numerous,  the  punishment  of  offenses  so  severe, 
that  it  is  to  be  wondered  at  that  young  men  who 
have  just  thrown  off  school  discipline  should  will- 
ingly accept  the  n'ew  and  often  heavier  yoke. 

This  severe  discipline,  together  with  the  consid- 
erable expenses  connected  with  the  Corps  life,  is  the 
reason  the  Corps  are  gradually  diminishing,  and 
the  mass  of  the  Wilden  (the  name  given  to  the  stu- 
dents who  belong  to  neither  Corps  nor  Burschens- 
haften)  increasing.  Still,  even  to-day,  a  father,  if 
his  purse  allows  it,  will  always  endeavor  to  get  his 
son  received  into  a  good  Corps.  He  knows  very 
well  that  the  advantages  outweigh  the  disadvan- 
tages of  wasted  time  and  money.  In  the  first  place, 
he  has  the  assurance  that  his  son  can  only  mix  with 
young  fellows  of  his  own  position  (a  Corps  is  as 
particular  as  to  the  "Circles"  in  which  its  members 
associate  as  a  careful  mother  with  her  daughters)  ; 
he  will  be  watched  over  by  men  older  than  himself, 
and  kept  from  gambling  and  every  other  form  of 
vice;  he  will  be  taught  self-control,  and  in  after- 
life he  will  have  the  support  not  only  of  those 
whom  he  knew  as  students  but  of  all  the  older  mem- 


112  THE    GERMANS 

bers  of  his  Corps  ("alte  Herrn"),  usually  men  of 
considerable  wealth  and  position.  Thus,  for  in- 
stance, a  young  architect  or  engineer,  who,  through 
no  fault  of  his  own,  falls  on  evil  days,  need  only 
apply  to  an  old  Corps  student  who  is  at  the  head  of 
some  big  business  to  be  sure  of  getting  an  excellent 
berth,  with  the  prospect  of  a  rapid  advancement. 

All  these  advantages  are  very  real,  and  are  fully 
worth  the  sacrifices  of  time,  money,  and  inde- 
pendence which  must  be  brought.  The  money  is, 
without  doubt,  a  serious  item.  To  exist  comfort- 
ably in  a  good  Corps  a  student  must  have  an  allow- 
ance of  at  least  £250  a  year,  and  if  possible  more, 
and  this  sum  is  all  the  heavier  because  during  the 
time  that  he  is  an  active  member  work  plays  only 
a  small  part  in  his  program.  Not  that  he  leads  an 
idle  life,  but  the  Corps  makes  so  many  demands 
upon  his  energies  that  only  the  most  industrious  can 
attend  lectures  or  study  privately.  But  the  time  is 
after  all  a  short  one.  At  the  end  of  his  fourth  term 
the  Corps  student  usually  retires  into  private  life 
as  "inactive,"  and  only  appears  at  great  ceremonies 
— very  often  he  goes  to  another  university  to  avoid 
the  temptations  of  the  old  life.  At  any  rate  he  be- 
comes a  worker,  and  in  a  sense  which  would  make 
most  English  young  men  open  their  eyes. 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      113 

Considering  how  hard  the  German  school-boy 
works,  and  how  hard  the  men  must  work  in  after 
life,  the  student  can  not  be  grudged  the  short 
respite  in  which  to  enjoy  his  youth.  And  he  does 
enjoy  it — not  in  excesses  as  the  heavy  allowance 
would  suggest.  The  £25o-£300  is  spent  for  a  great 
part  in  assisting  to  bear  the  expenses  of  the  Corps, 
whose  members  are  often  so  limited  in  number  that 
the  share  of  the  burden  can  be  very  serious.  Most 
good  Corps  have  their  own  houses,  some  even  their 
own  motors  and  carriages.  The  houses  are  some- 
times extremely  fine  buildings,  built  by  subscrip- 
tion, in  which  the  "alte  Herrn"  take  a  lion's  share. 
From  the  outside  they  look  like  the  private  resi- 
dences of  the  wealthy,  but  inside  they  are  arranged 
to  meet  the  special  requirements  of  the  Corps  life. 
The  furniture  and  fittings  are  handsome  and 
tasteful. 

The  entrance-hall — I  am,  of  course,  merely 
taking  an  example — is  lined  with  dark  oak,  the 
walls  covered  with  emblems  and  trophies  from 
every  part  of  the  world;  dueling  sabers  and  the 
flags  of  the  Corps  and  of  its  sister-Corps  form  the 
chief  ornaments,  which  are  never  tawdry.  There  is 
a  large  "Kneipzimmer"  (the  room  where  the 
Kneipen  or  meetings  are  held),  a  library  which  a 


114  THE    GERMANS 

professor  might  envy,  a  casino  for  quiet  evenings, 
and  one  or  two  odd  rooms  useful  at  festive  times. 
In  very  few  cases  do  the  students  make  use  of  their 
houses  as  actual  places  of  residence.  Each  has  his 
private  lodging,  though  they  usually  dine  together 
at  a  specified  restaurant.  Only  the  most  exclusive 
— and  the  practice  is  not  looked  upon  with  ap- 
proval— keep  their  own  cook  and  actually  live  in 
the  Corps  house.  As  a  rule,  the  all-important 
Corpsdiener  (servant)  and  his  wife  are  left  in 
charge,  and  see  that  everything  is  kept  in  perfect 
order. 

Besides  the  expense  of  keeping  up  this  establish- 
ment, there  comes  the  carriages,  excursions,  tailors' 
bills,  and  above  all  the  invitations  which  the  Corps 
issues  in  the  course  of  the  year.  This  latter  point  is 
individual,  but  a  well-represented  Corps  will  us- 
ually give  two  or  three  balls  during  the  year,  be- 
sides small  dances,  Damen-Kneipen,  etc.  The  balls 
are  the  great  events  of  their  social  life,  and  perhaps 
it  would  be  of  sorrle  interest  to  describe  one  to 
which  I  was  invited  shortly  before  Christmas. 

The  invitation  was  for  eight  o'clock,  but,  as  in  all 
university  matters,  this  includes  an  extra  quarter  of 
an  hour,  so  that  the  guests  are  expected  to  arrive 
at  a  quarter  past  eight.     The  three  Chargierten 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      ii^ 

(the  heads  of  the  Corps)  received  us  in  the  entrance 
hall,  glorious  in  immaculate  evening  dress,  Corps 
ribbons,  worn  across  the  shirt-front,  and  the  curious 
little  Cerevis  caps,  which  remind  me  of  the  forage 
caps  which  some  of  our  soldiers  still  wear,  save  that 
they  are  delicate  works  of  art  in  blue  silk  and  silver 
embroidery.  Behind  the  Chargierten  stands  a 
crowd  of  beaming  Fiichse.  I  must  hasten  to  ex- 
plain at  this  point  that  the  Fiichse  are  not  wild  ani- 
mals, as  their  name  might  suggest.  The  Corps  is 
divided  into  two  groups,  the  Burschen,  or  older 
students,  who  have  won  their  privileges  by  a  cer- 
tain number  of  well-fought  Mensur,  and  the 
Fiichse,  who  are  the  new  members,  not  yet  having 
won  their  spurs,  and  bound  by  absolute  obedience 
to  their  elders.  Each  Fiichse  has  what  is  called  a 
Lieb-Bursche — a  sort  of  Mentor  and  particular 
friend — whom  he  is  allowed  to  choose  out  himself. 
Some  popular  students  have  so  many  Leib-Fiichse 
to  watch  over  that  I  should  think  they  must  jfind 
their  nursemaid  duties  distinctly  irksome. 

But  let  me  return  to  the  subject  in  hand.  Having 
paid  the  Chargierten  all  the  compliments  which  we 
could  think  of  over  the  Christmas  decorations,  we 
were  conducted  up-stairs  to  an  improvised  cloak- 
room. The  efforts  which  had  been  made  to  achieve 


ii6  THE    GERMANS 

a  "feminine"  atmosphere  were  really  pathetic. 
With  the  assistance  and  advice  of  the  Corpsdiener's 
wife,  our  hosts  had  gathered  together  the  most  won- 
derful assortment  of  hair-pins,  safety-pins,  ordinary 
pins,  needles,  cottons,  and  hand-glasses  I  have  ever 
seen.  A  haberdasher  could  have  set  up  business  on 
the  stock;  and,  reassured  by  this  provision  for  all 
possible  accidents,  we  returned  down-stairs.  The 
Corps  was  unusually  strong — twenty  students  in  all, 
and  as  other  masculine  guests  had  been  invited,  the 
rooms  were  by  this  time  comfortably  full.  We  were 
immediately  conducted  by  our  respective  "Tisch- 
herrn"  to  the  supper-table  in  the  Kneipzimmer. 

The  three  Chargierten  sat  at  the  cross-table  with 
the  three  most  important  chaperones,  the  others 
had  their  places  assigned  to  them.  Flowers  were 
strewn  everywhere,  the  string  band  played  its  hard- 
est and  loudest  in  the  neighboring  room,  and  the 
supper  began.  There  were  three  courses — rather 
slowly  served  by  the  unaccustomed  Corpsdiener 
and  his  specially  engaged  satellites — so  that,  what 
with  the  speeches  of  welcome  and  other  delays,  it 
was  past  ten  o'clock  before  we  rose.  We  were  then 
led  up-stairs  and  shown  the  glories  of  the  library 
and  casino,  the  horrors  of  the  long  dueling  pistols 
and  sabers.    While   the   long  tables  were  being 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      117 

cleared  away  down-stairs  coffee  was  handed  round, 
and  three  students  sat  down  and  played  a  Beetho- 
ven trio  for  violin,  'cello  and  piano!  All  three 
played  excellently,  and  the  others  listened  with 
critical  interest.  For  any  one  with  preconceived 
ideas  of  student  rowdyism  the  sight  of  the  solemn 
group  must  have  been  somewhat  disconcerting. 

After  this  performance,  which  was  warmly  ap- 
plauded, we  proceeded  down-stairs  again,  and  the 
dancing  began.  Of  course  the  masculine  element 
was  vastly  in  the  majority,  so  that  there  was  not  a 
moment's  rest.  And  the  chaperones  danced  too — 
some  of  them!  The  more  sober  sat  in  the  adjoin- 
ing room,  and  were  courteously  entertained  by  the 
partnerless  remainder.  At  about  twelve  o'clock  a 
great  sensation  was  caused  by  the  arrival  of  Father 
Christmas — or  an  individual  dressed  up  very  like 
him — with  a  great  bundle  over  his  back.  After  the 
recital  of  a  self-composed  poem  he  distributed  lit- 
tle bouquets  of  flowers  to  the  masculine  guests,  and 
ribbons,  with  more  or  less  witty  mottoes,  to  the  la- 
dies. The  music  once  more  struck  up,  the  bouquets 
were  offered  in  exchange  for  a  waltz,  until  each 
lady  present  was  well  supplied.  Afterward  came 
the  Damenwahl,  in  which  the  feminine  element  as- 
serted its  independence,  chose  out  the  best  dancers, 


ii8  THE    GERMANS 

and  rewarded  them  with  the  much-coveted  ribbons. 
This  cotillon  marked  the  high-tide  of  the  evening, 
and  being  wise  people  we  did  not  wait  for  the  ebb. 
We  departed,  therefore,  carrying  with  us  the  mem- 
ory of  a  charming  evening  spent  with  hosts  whose 
courtesy,  kindliness,  and  savoir-faire  might  well  be 
set  up  as  example  for  older  people  of  genuine  hos- 
pitality. When  I  read  of  the  coarse,  mannerless 
German  student,  I  have  only  to  recall  the  picture  of 
those  tall,  well-built  young  men  with  their  fresh- 
colored  faces — marred,  it  is  true,  with  the  Mensur 
scar — and  their  simple,  unfailing  courtesy,  to  be 
thoroughly  amused. 

In  the  summer  this  same  Corps  hires  its  own 
tennis-court,  and  invites  those  who  danced  with 
them  in  the  winter.  Picnic  parties  are  arranged,  at 
which  the  students  still  play  the  part  of  amiable 
hosts.  As  a  return  the  various  families  invite  the 
Corps  to  small  house-dances,  and  as  guests  the  stu- 
dents are  as  agreeable  as  hosts.  They  still  seem  to 
think  it  is  their  business  to  entertain,  and  the  ag- 
onies of  sitting  next  a  partner  who  answers  in  sulky 
monosyllables  and  wont  dance  are  unknown. 
Equally  unknown  is  all  loudness  or  roughness. 

The  ribbon  which  the  Corps  student  wears  is  a 
guarantee  that  he  is  a  gentleman,  and  that  he  will 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      119 

behave  as  such.  The  Corps  makes  itself  responsi- 
ble for  his  conduct.  Hence  it  is  very  careful  as  to 
whom  it  receives  into  its  circle.  The  "Keilen" — 
that  is  to  say,  the  recruiting  of  all  sorts  of  students 
at  all  odd  places  and  times — is  only  the  methods  of 
the  lower  and  sometimes  very  inferior  Burschen- 
schaften  or  Verbindungen.  The  Corps  only  accept 
members  who  are  recommended  to  them  by  "alte 
Herrn,"  and  whose  family  and  financial  standing 
is  unexceptionable,  and  it  is  as  easy  to  "fly  out"  as 
it  is  difficult  to  get  in.  A  single  act  of  dishonor 
(lying  or  cheating),  bad  debts,  or  a  sign  of  cow- 
ardice, and  a  student  is  at  once  deprived  of  his 
Corps  ribbon  and  cast  out  into  everlasting  disgrace. 
It  is  a  hard  punishment.  To  fight  unfairly,  or  to 
shrink  back  a  step  from  an  opponent's  sword,  is  an 
offense  past  pardon,  and  accordingly  the  sinner  is 
branded  for  life.  Every  Corps  in  Germany  is  given 
notice  of  his  disgrace,  and  his  own  circle  treats  him 
as  an  outcast.  An  "ausgestossener  Corps-student" 
is  in  the  same  position  as  an  officer  who  has  been 
dismissed  from  the  army  with  "schlichtem  Ab- 
schied,"  and  he  can  either  disappear  into  the 
depths,  go  to  America,  or  put  a  bullet  through  his 
brains — in  his  own  circle  he  has  made  himself  "im- 
possible." 


120  THE    GERMANS 

Thus  the  Corps  student's  life  is  not  all  roses.  He 
is  constantly  under  the  eye  of  a  stern  discipline. 
However  long  the  Kneipen  (meetings)  last,  he 
must  neither  show  weariness  nor  exhaustion;  how- 
ever late  he  is  up  at  night,  at  ten  o'clock  the  next 
morning  he  must  be  at  the  Portal  before  the  univer- 
sity in  cap  and  colors;  if  he  uses  language  or  re- 
lates anecdotes  which  might  not  be  repeated  in  a 
drawing-room  he  is  heavily  fined;  if  he  upsets  any- 
thing at  table  he  is  fined;  if  he  breaks  a  glass  he 
must  supply  the  Corps  with  a  dozen  new  ones ;  un- 
der no  circumstances  may  he  quarrel  with  or  irri- 
tate a  Corpsbruder;  and  so  on  into  every  detail  of 
his  life. 

As  to  the  tremendous  beer-drinking  of  which 
one  hears  so  much,  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  whole  custom  is  tremendously  exag- 
gerated— chiefly  by  the  student  himself.  He 
takes  a  curious  sort  of  pride  in  boasting  about  his 
prowess  at  the  Kneipen;  and  in  truth,  if  you  count 
the  glasses  which  he  appears  to  consume  at  a  sitting, 
it  seems  appalling.  But — and  this  is  the  point — he 
rarely  if  ever  drinks  more  than  half  of  what  is  set 
before  him.  Two  minutes  after  his  glass  has  been 
given  him  by  the  Corpsdiener  it  is  whisked  away 
again  and  a  fresh  one  brought,  so  that  it  can  be 


COPVRIGMT,  BV  DNOERWOOO  il  UNDERWOOD,  N.  V, 


Corps   Students   drinking  out  of   doors   Sunday   afternoon 


THE    EMPEROR^S    BIRTHDAY      121 

calculated  with  fair  correctness  that  half  of  the 
beer  is  really  consumed  and  half  of  it  wasted. 
Moreover,  it  must  be  remembered  that  German 
beer  is  extremely  light,  and  he  must  indeed  have  a 
weak  head  who  can  not  stand  the  necessary  quanti- 
ties. For  a  certain  quantity  must  be  drunk.  If  one 
Corps  student  drinks  to  another  the  latter  must 
drink  in  return,  and  as  this  formality  is  undergone 
at  short  intervals  throughout  a  long  sitting,  the  mat- 
ter can  become  trying  in  the  extreme.  It  is  in  fact 
considered  a  joke  to  drink  constantly  to  a  poor  un- 
hardened  young  Fuchs,  till  the  unfortunate  youth  is 
only  kept  upright  by  the  stern  eye  of  the  Char- 
gierten. 

It  is  a  curious  custom,  this  drinking,  and 
though  it  is  undoubtedly  foolish,  it  is  none  the  less 
a  discipline  of  sorts.  It  requires  rigid  self-control, 
for,  though  the  student  may  drink  till  heaven  and 
earth  are  interchangeable,  he  may  not  show  that  he 
is  drunk.  But  the  latter  stage  is  very  rarely 
reached,  and  the  whole  drinking  system  is  being 
modified  from  year  to  year.  The  dueling,  as  we 
call  it,  remains,  however,  as  an  unalterable  institu- 
tion. No  student  can  belong  to  a  Corps  unless  he  is 
prepared  to  fight,  and  no  student  can  win  the  cov- 
eted three-colored  ribbon  of  the  Bursche  until  he 


122  THE    GERMANS 

has  fought  successfully  at  least  three  times.  Here  I 
must  explain  what  the  student  means  by  ^'success- 
fully." He  does  not  mean  that  he  has  disabled  his 
opponent  and  himself  come  off  without  damage — 
quite  the  contrary.  He  means  that  he  has  had  a  bad 
slash,  and  has  borne  it,  both  at  the  moment  and  in 
the  still  more  painful  afterwards,  without  flinching. 
Hence  a  brilliant  fighter  may  fight  three  times  and 
still  remain  a  Fuchs.  So  long  as  he  has  not  given 
visible  proof  of  his  courage  and  endurance,  so  long 
must  he  be  content  to  occupy  an  inferior  position 
among  his  brothers.  His  actual  skill  counts  for 
comparatively  nothing.  This  is  the  explanation  for 
the  pride  which  a  student  takes  in  his  sometimes 
very  grisly  wounds.  He  sees  in  them,  and  he  knows 
that  others  see  in  them,  not  the  sign  that  he  is  a  poor 
fighter,  but  that  he  has  borne  himself  with  honor. 

The  Mensur,  as  this  form  of  fighting  is  called,  is 
not  a  duel.  It  is  conducted  without  animosity  be- 
tween students  of  different  Corps.  (The  Corps  do 
not  fight  with  the  Burschenschaften.)  The  third 
Chargierter  of  the  contending  Corps  choose  out 
their  representatives  in  perfect  friendliness,  and 
match  them  according  to  their  size  and  experience. 
No  Fuchs  is  allowed  to  fight  until  he  has  been 
taught,  and  accordingly  every  university  has  its 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      123 

Pauklehrer  (teacher),  who  instructs  the  younger 
student  to  wield  the  sabers,  and  also  to  bear  him- 
self properly.  Every  morning  the  beginners  must 
practise  for  a  couple  of  hours  on  the  Paukboden, 
as  it  is  called,  protected  by  masks  and  pads,  and 
only  when  he  has  reached  a  certain  degree  of  pro- 
ficiency is  he  allowed  to  take  his  part  in  the  ^'real 
thing." 

At  the  risk  of  placing  myself  in  the  position  of 
a  constant  apologist  for  German  customs,  I  feel  that 
in  justice  I  must  make  some  effort  to  defend  the 
practice  which  excites  so  much  disgust  and  won- 
der among  my  own  compatriots.  The  "real  thing" 
is  scarcely  more  violent,  and  perhaps  less  brutal, 
than  a  hard-fought  game  of  Rugby  foot-ball, 
and  it  requires  infinitely  more  nerve  and  courage. 
It  is  true  that  the  vital  part  of  the  student's  body  is 
padded  and  his  eyes  protected,  but  the  whole  of  his 
face  and  head  are  exposed  to  the  full  force  of  his 
opponent's  weapon.  And  the  force  is  sometimes 
tremendous.  There  is  no  delicate  French  fencing. 
The  "Schlager"  (straight  sword  without  point)  is 
wielded  above  the  head  with  an  energy  and  rapid- 
ity which  is  bewildering,  and  neither  of  the  op- 
ponents may  flinch  or  jerk  his  head,  or  move  back 
from  his  position.    The  two  seconds  on  either  side, 


124  THE    GERMANS 

armed  with  sabers,  watch  eagle-eyed  for  the  slight- 
est infringement  of  the  law,  and  woe  to  him  who 
involuntarily  shifts  his  position!  If  he  is  a  young 
Fuchs  he  may  be  let  off  once  with  a  few  weeks'  Ver- 
bannung,  but  if  the  practice  continues  he  has 
proved  himself  unworthy  of  the  Corps,  and  must 

go- 

The  Verbannung,  I  must  explain,  is  the  hardest 

punishment  which  can  be  inflicted,  short  of  ac- 
tual expulsion.  It  is  a  kind  of  "Coventry"  into 
which  a  sinner  may  be  sent  for  a  few  days  or  a  few 
weeks  according  to  the  nature  of  his  offense,  and 
during  that  time  he  may  neither  speak  to  his  com- 
rades nor  wear  the  colors.  He  generally  consoles 
himself  with  his  much-neglected  work. 

To  return  to  the  Mensur.  Each  "partie"  lasts 
until  one  of  the  opponents  has  been  "ausgestochen," 
that  is  to  say,  sufficiently  badly  cut  to  warrant  the 
interference  of  the  Paukarzt,  who  is  always  there. 
The  victim  is  marched  off  in  the  highest  spirits  to 
the  adjoining  room,  where  his  wounds  are  imme- 
diately stitched,  and  not  in  the  most  gentle  fashion, 
either.  While  he  is  being  sewed  up — sometimes  the 
gashes  require  as  many  as  sixteen  stitches — his 
friends  stand  round,  photograph  him  from  the 
damaged  side,  and  keep  up  a  cheerful  fire  of  com- 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      125 

ments,  which  the  object  must  accept  with  unfail- 
ing good-humor.  No  matter  how  painful  the  op- 
eration may  be,  he  must  not  flinch,  and  though  they 
deny  it  with  an  easy  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  it  must 
often  be  a  trying  ordeal.  After  a  Mensur  a  student 
belonging  to  a  good  Corps  does  not  go  into  society 
until  his  wounds  are  presentable;  he  consoles  him- 
self by  wandering  about  the  streets  with  a  black 
skull-cap  and  a  bandaged  face,  though  evtn  this  is 
sometimes  forbidden. 

I  have  already  mentioned  that  the  Corps  do  not 
fight  with  the  Burschenshaften,  and  now  comes  the 
reason,  which  is  quite  German,  a  direct  extension 
of  the  ^^Kastengeist"  into  a  smaller  sphere.  The 
Corps  consider  themselves  altogether  above  the 
Burschenshaften,  and  the  feeling  between  the  two 
parties  is  sometimes  painfully  strained.  On  the 
whole  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  Corps  are  not 
far  wrong  in  their  self-estimation.  There  are,  as  a 
rule,  only  five  corps  in  a  university,  whose  total 
numbers  rarely  amount  to  a  hundred.  These  are 
the  "elect" — young  men  of  noble  birth,  as  in  the 
Borussia  Corps  in  Bonn,  or  at  any  rate  of  good 
family.  The  Burschenschaften,  with  one  or  two 
respectable  exceptions,  are  made  up  of  all  the  ele- 
ments which  present  themselves.    Hence,  though 


126  THE    GERMANS 

they  have  much  the  same  laws  as  the  Corps  students, 
the  tone  among  them  is  exactly  that  which  one 
would  expect  to  find  in  a  very  mixed  society.  They 
show  themselves  far  more  than  the  Corps  students, 
and  the  stranger  who  sees  a  badly-dressed,  unpleas- 
ant-looking youth  swaggering  about  in  a  colored 
cap  goes  home  with  a  sad  tale  of  the  Corps  student, 
whom  he  has  probably  not  seen  at  all. 

Besides  the  Burschenshaften  there  are  the  Wil- 
den — students  who  belong  to  no  Verbindung,  and 
take  no  part  in  the  fighting.  On  the  whole  they  are 
looked  upon  with  dislike  and  suspicion  by  the  au- 
thorities— again  not  altogether  without  reason. 
Poles,  Jews,  doubtful  specimens  of  all  nations,  mix 
with  equally  doubtful  Germans,  and  the  professors, 
who  have  usually  been  Corps  students  themselves, 
have  no  love  for  them.  Of  course  there  is  always 
the  class  of  workers,  retired  Corps  students,  who 
are  looked  upon  with  respect,  but  they  are  not  the 
Wilden,  who,  while  professing  to  belong  to  no  par- 
ticular order,  form  a  union  among  themselves  whose 
motto  is  freedom — very  often  license.  The  Wilden 
contain  all  the  elements  which  afterward  drift — 
if  they  are  not  already  there — into  the  arms  of  red- 
hot  socialism  and  worse.  The  tendency  toward 
socialism  is  alone  sufficient  to  debar  them  from  all 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      127 

intercourse  with  either  the  Burschenschaften  or  the 
Corps.  The  latter  are  essentially  "Reichsgesinn- 
ten,"  that  is  to  say,  sworn  foes  to  socialism  and 
staunch  adherers  to  the  throne.  Bismarck  is  their 
ideal  German,  and  his  portrait,  with  that  of  the 
present  emperor,  hangs  in  the  place  of  honor  in 
every  Corpshaus. 

As  regards  the  part  which  the  Corps  student 
plays  in  public  life,  everything  depends  on  the  uni- 
versity. In  large  cities,  such  as  Berlin  and  Munich, 
they  have  next  to  no  influence,  but  in  Heidelberg 
and  Freiburg  they  are  the  ruling  powers.  The 
town  accepts  their  escapades  with  a  smiling  counte- 
nance, and  even  the  policeman  treats  them  with  a 
not  very  affectionate  respect.  Certainly  the  town 
has  all  reason  to  love  the  wearers  of  the  colored 
caps,  for  without  them  the  shops  might  just  as  well 
put  up  their  shutters.  The  student  is  reckless  with 
his  "dedication  presents,''  his  carriages,  his  tailor's 
and  smoking  bills,  and  as  the  tradesman's  pet  trick 
is  to  refuse  cash  payment,  and  to  send  in  enormous 
accounts  long  after  the  student  has  forgotten  what 
he  really  did  and  did  not  buy,  the  poor  youth — or 
rather  his  poor  father — is  miserably  swindled.  As 
to  the  policeman,  he  plays  his  role  in  fear  and  trem- 
bling.   He  knows  that  for  every  severity  on  his  part 


128  THE    GERMANS 

the  punishment  is  sure  and  swift.  Thus  there  was 
once  a  misguided  sergeant  who,  having  caught 
some  young  Fiichse  at  their  favorite  amusement  of 
turning  out  the  street  lamps,  marched  them  off  to 
the  Career  (university  prison),  and  saw  to  it  that 
they  were  rewarded  with  a  few  days'  confinement. 
Some  weeks  later  the  same  sergeant,  wandering 
through  the  streets  at  midnight,  saw  a  sight  which 
delighted  his  venomous  heart — students  crawling 
stealthily  down  the  street  bearing  on  their  shoulders 
a  suspicious  looking  ladder. 

"Hal"  thought  the  Law,  "another  sign-board  to 
be  stolen!  This  is  a  chance  for  glory!"  and  fol- 
lowed on  tiptoe.  His  supposition  proved  all  too 
correct.  Outside  a  shop  where  a  large  sign-board 
announced  the  wares  of  a  certain  tailor  a  halt  was 
made.  After  much  peering  round  and  mysterious 
whisperings,  the  ladder  was  hoisted  and  the  theft 
committed.  "Caught — red-handed!"  cried  the  tri- 
umphant sergeant,  pouncing  upon  his  victims. 
Fearful  consternation  ensued.  The  more  timid  fell 
on  their  knees  and  implored  him  to  "let  them  off 
this  once,"  touching  references  were  made  to  the 
broken  mother-hearts  and  disgraced  fathers;  but 
the  Law  was  obdurate,  and  behold  the  whole  crest- 
fallen, lamenting  crowd  was  marched  solemnly  oft- 


THE    EMPEROR'S    BIRTHDAY      129 

to  the  Wache.  There  the  superintendent  began  his 
part.  Delighted  to  have  so  many  victims  at  one 
haul,  he  made  the  formalities  as  long  and  painful 
as  he  could.  Long  lists  with  names  and  addresses 
were  made  out,  impertinent  questions  asked,  and 
long  speeches  held,  until  after  some  two  weary 
hours  had  passed  the  eldest  student  meekly  pro- 
duced a  bill. 

"But  is  it  the  law  that  one  may  not  remove  one's 
own  property,  dear  Herr  Polizist?"  he  asked  with 
humble  interest. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  mean?" 

"You  see — the  sign-board  happens  to  be  ours — '' 

"Yours?" 

"We  bought  it  this  morning,  if  you  please.  Here 
is  the  receipt." 

A  veil  may  be  drawn  over  the  subsequent  ex- 
plosion, and  the  war  dance  of  triumph  which  was 
executed  outside  the  Wache  and  all  the  way  home, 
to  the  chagrin  of  the  peacefully  sleeping  Heidel- 
berger  citizens.  Such  scenes  are  too  common,  and 
I  have  only  ventured  to  quote  the  historic  prank 
because  it  is  typical  of  student  pranks  in  general. 
Sometimes  they  are  witty  and  sometimes  they  are 
not,  but  on  the  whole  they  are  as  harmless  as  the 
one  I  have  described. 


I30  THE    GERMANS 

Like  every  member  of  the  better  class  society, 
the  Corps  student  is  intensely  exclusive.  Except 
on  certain  fixed  occasions  he  does  not  even  associate 
with  members  of  other  Corps,  and  he  only  enters 
into  society  either  with  his  Corps  brothers  or  with 
their  sanction.  Thus  it  is  very  rare  to  see  a  student 
anywhere  alone;  and  if  he  begins  to  mix  in  a  circle 
not  approved  of  by  the  rest  of  his  Corps,  he  is  very 
quickly  brought  to  the  right-about.  A  student 
whom  I  know  is  a  keen  sportsman,  but  his  Corps 
has  forbidden  him  to  join  the  hockey  and  tennis 
clubs  in  the  town,  firstly,  because  there  are  Wilden 
among  the  members,  and  secondly,  because  it  takes 
up  too  much  of  his  time.  A  Corps  student,  there- 
fore, must  be  prepared  to  give  up  everything  from 
the  moment  he  wears  the  colors,  and  to  surrender 
his  will  entirely  into  the  hands  of  the  majority. 

This  system  no  doubt  tends  to  narrowness  and 
one-sidedness,  but  the  extreme  effects  are  rubbed  off 
as  soon  as  the  student  leaves  the  university  behind 
him,  and  it  belongs  to  the  German  idea  of  dis- 
cipline, which  is  the  leading  idea  in  every  phase  of 
life.  Moreover,  like  all  German  exclusiveness,  it 
has  its  reasons  and  its  advantages.  The  reason  is 
not  far  to  seek.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the 
Corps  is  responsible  for  the  behavior  of  each  one 


THE   EMPEROR'S   BIRTHDAY      131 

of  its  members,  and  that  should  one  of  them  bring 
discredit  on  himself  the  whole  Corps  may  be  abol- 
ished, or  at  any  rate  suspended  for  any  number  of 
terms.  Hence  it  behooves  the  Chargierten  to  keep 
stern  watch  over  the  younger  members.  And  the 
advantage  is,  as  I  have  already  remarked,  that  a 
young  man  can  not  get  into  bad  society  or  run  wild. 
The  latter  dangers  are  greater  in  a  German  than  in 
an  English  university,  because  the  student  is  under 
no  direct  control,  and  is  free  to  study,  "bummel," 
or  go  to  the  bad  very  much  as  he  likes.  The  Corps 
acts  as  a  sort  of  expensive  but  reliable  brake,  and 
the  young  man  who  believes  that  he  is  enjoying  the 
wildest  freedom  is  really  under  the  strictest  possible 
control.  He  does  not  realize  the  fact,  and  so  does 
not  mind  it,  and  in  after  days  he  looks  back  upon 
his  Corps  life  as  the  happiest,  freest  time,  when 
he  enjoyed  himself  most,  worked  least,  and  made 
his  best  and  most  enduring  friendships. 

All  this  has  been  a  lengthy  digression  from  the 
starting-point,  but  the  German  student-life  is  a 
complicated  subject,  which  I  do  not  pretend  to 
have  done  more  than  touch  on.  Nevertheless,  I 
trust  I  have  explained  sufficiently  to  introduce  the 
reader  into  the  midst  of  a  Kaiser-Kommers — the 
student's  celebration  of  the  Emperor's  birthday — 


132  THE    GERMANS 

with  the  feeling  that  it  will  not  be  entirely  incom- 
prehensible to  him.  A  Kommers,  it  must  be  ex- 
plained, is  a  formal  meeting  of  all  the  Corps,  and 
sometimes  of  the  Burschenshaften,  to  celebrate 
some  special  national  event.  The  Kaiser-Kommers 
is  the  most  important  of  these,  and  takes  place 
some  days  before  the  27th  of  January  in  one  or 
other  of  the  large  town  halls.  As  the  Corps  and 
the  Burschenshaften  are  nearly  always  on  bad 
terms  it  is  very  rare  that  the  peace  angels  succeed  in 
bringing  them  together,  and  each  party  usually 
holds  its  Kommers  alone.  Though  the  scene  suf- 
fers thereby  in  size  and  color,  it  is  on  the  whole 
more  attractive  and  in  every  way  more  select. 

Ladies  are  invited  as  admirers,  and  are  throned  at 
long  tables  on  a  raised  platform,  from  whence  they 
have  a  wide  view  over  the  whole  scene.  At  the  far 
end  of  the  hall  each  Corps  has  built  up  its  emblems 
of  flags,  shields,  and  armorial  bearings  with  the 
presiding  Corps  of  the  year  in  the  center.  Beneath 
these  gay  trappings  is  the  guest-table,  with  the  in- 
vited professors,  town  officials,  and  higher  officers. 
The  first  Chargierter  of  the  presiding  Corps  occu- 
pies the  great  oak-chair  in  the  center,  and  com- 
mands the  ceremonies.  The  tables  of  the  Corps  are 
arranged  down  the  center  of  the  hall ;  each  Corps 


THE   EMPEROR'S   BIRTHDAY      133 

has  its  own  table,  with  the  Chargierter  at  the  head, 
and  is  supplemented  by  "alte  Herrn"  and  special 
guests,  who  are  received  at  the  entrance  and  con- 
ducted to  their  places  amidst  the  salutations  of  the 
whole  assembly — a  somewhat  embarrassing  pro- 
ceeding, by  the  way.  The  scene  is  a  brilliant  one, 
especially  for  the  modern  eye,  which  is  accustomed 
only  to  drab  and  dreary  colors  in  the  masculine 
world.  The  well-set-up  figures  in  the  picturesque 
Vix — or  uniform — form  a  picture  which  the 
stranger  does  not  easily  forget.  Each  Corps  has  its 
own  Kneip-Jacke,  a  sort  of  short,  braided  military 
coat  in  the  Corps  color,  in  this  case  either  pale  blue 
cornflower,  dark  blue,  green,  or  black — the  Cerevis 
to  match,  white  leather  trousers,  and  high  black 
boots  over  the  knee.  The  Chargierter  carry  swords 
with  sashes,  with  the  Corps  color  over  the  shoulder, 
and  the  Burschenschaften — when  they  are  present 
— wear  long  ostrich  plumes  in  their  caps  after  the 
fashion  of  an  earlier  age.  Indeed,  the  whole  scene 
seems  to  belong  to  another  and  more  chivalrous 
century. 

Meanwhile  a  string  band  performs  selections  out 
of  the  operas  until  the  presiding  Chargierter  rises, 
and,  having  struck  the  table  three  times  with  his 
drawn  sword,  commands  "Silentium!"    He  then 


134  THE    GERMANS 

announces  that  a  ^'Salamander''  is  to  be  "rubbed" 
in  honor  of  his  Imperial  Majesty.  This  perform- 
ance is  a  curious  one.  The  whole  assembly  rises, 
the  Chargierter  commands  "Eins!"  Each  takes  his 
glass  of  beer  and  drinks  it  to  the  dregs.  "Zwei!" 
The  glasses  are  lowered.  "Eins,  zwei,  drei!"  The 
glasses  are  rattled  sharply  on  the  table,  producing 
a  sound  like  muffled  thunder — at  "drei!"  they  are 
brought  down  with  a  single  abrupt  crash.  Such  is 
the  student's  method  of  drinking  a  health — the 
famous  Salamander.  After  this  the  singing  begins. 
Drinking,  fighting,  and  singing — these  three  occu- 
pations play  a  great  part  in  the  student's  life,  and 
the  latter  item  by  no  means  the  least.  The  German 
student  sings  well  and  lustily,  and  his  songs  are 
worth  singing.  They  are  fresh,  vigorous,  and  melo- 
dious without  being  trivial.  The  greatest  German 
poets  and  composers  have  helped  to  enrich  the 
store,  and  consequently  it  is  a  real  pleasure  to  listen, 
and  even  to  join  in,  as  every  guest  is  expected  to  do. 
During  the  singing  the  first  Chargierter  of 
each  Corps  remains  standing,  as  also  during  the 
speeches  which  follow.  The  first  is  to  the  Emperor, 
held  by  the  presiding  Chargierter,  after  which  the 
national  anthem  is  sung,  and  a  second  Salamander 
"rubbed."  Speeches  for  the  Grand  Duke,  the  pro- 


THE   EMPEROR'S   BIRTHDAY      135 

fessors,  the  guests,  and  last — but  not  least,  and  by 
far  the  most  amusing — for  the  ladies,  are  held  by 
the  different  Chargierten,  and  each  is  concluded  by 
the  complimentary  Salamander,  to  which,  fortun- 
ately, the  ladies  are  not  expected  to  respond.  When 
one  considers  that  the  speech-holders  are  little 
more  than  boys,  and  that  they  have  an  audience  of 
professors,  generals,  and  sometimes  of  the  Grand 
Duke  himself,  the  speeches  are  remarkably  good, 
and  are  always  warmly  patriotic.  "Patriotism"  is 
indeed  the  keynote  of  the  whole  proceedings.  The 
songs  and  speeches  breathe  the  same  passionate  at- 
tachment to  Kaiser  and  Vaterland,  and  one  feels 
that  one  is  in  touch  with  a  great  and  vigorous  na- 
tional force  in  embryo.  In  between  the  songs  and 
speeches  the  ladies  are  visited  and  presented  with 
flowers  from  the  Corps  by  which  they  are  invited, 
and  then  at  twelve  o'clock  the  ceremony  begins 
which  is  to  mark  the  close  of  the  official  part  of  the 
evening. 

This  IS  the  "Landesvater."  During  the  sing- 
ing of  a  certain  song,  to  which  the  name  "Landes- 
vater"  is  given,  the  two  youngest  students  of 
each  Corps,  at  opposite  sides  of  the  table,  drink 
to  each  other  standing;  a  Chargierter  takes  up  his 
place  behind  each  on  the  empty  chair,  and  gives 


136  THE   GERMANS 

his  charge  his  Schlager  or  sword.  These  are  first 
clashed  together  in  time  to  the  music  and  then 
crossed,  while  between  the  points  the  Chargierter 
on  the  one  side  gives  his  hand  to  the  student  on  the 
other.  At  the  end  of  the  last  verse — "Halten  will 
ich  stets  auf  Ehre" — each  student  takes  his  cap  and 
pierces  it  onto  his  sword.  The  two  particular  verses 
are  then  begun  again,  and  the  Chargierten  move  on 
to  the  next  couple,  until  all  the  caps  of  the  Corps 
are  collected  on  to  the  sword.  Those  who  have  per- 
formed their  part  of  the  ceremony  link  arms,  so 
that  at  the  end  the  whole  Corps  is  thus  joined 
together  round  the  table.  This  ends  the  official 
part  of  the  evening.  Afterward,  when  the  guests 
have  gone,  the  end  of  the  song  is  sung,  and  the  caps 
returned  to  their  respective  owners.  All  forms  and 
ceremonies  are  then  over;  the  Corps  mingle  to- 
gether, and  singing,  drinking,  and  smoking  occupy 
the  hours  until — no  one  knows  when  except  per- 
haps the  milkman! 

I  have  ventured  to  give  the  Landesvater  with  a 
very  rough  translation,  because,  in  the  original  at 
least,  it  expresses  the  German  spirit,  German  pa- 
triotism, and  the  German  love  of  symbolism.  The 
melody  is  simple  and  impressive,  as  indeed  is  the 
whole  ceremony,  unlikely  though  it  may  sound.  It 


THE  EMPEROR'S   BIRTHDAY      137 

may  not  appeal  to  our  English  taste,  any  more  than 
the  student-life  itself,  but  not  on  that  account  have 
we  the  right  to  ignore  what  is  undcmbtedly  the 
source,  the  very  root  of  all.  "For  Emperor,  Father- 
land and  honor!"  is  the  rallying  cry  of  the  German 
student,  and  it  is  the  guiding  principle  which  he 
carries  with  him  into  his  after-life.  No  doubt  he  is 
very  young,  very  foolish,  very  tenacious  of  his  an- 
cient, antiquated  customs,  but  he  has  retained  the 
high  purpose  of  which  the  customs  are  but  the 
rough  expression,  and  has  brightened  it  with  that 
poetry  and  idealism  which  is  the  German's  her- 
itage. 

THE  LANDESVATER 


T. 

Alles  schweige  !  Jeder  neige 
ernsten  Tonen  nun  sein  Ohr ! 
Hort,  ich  sing  das  Lied  der 
Lieder !  hort  es,  meine  deutschen 
Briider!  hall  es,  hall  es  wieder, 
froher  Chor! 


Silence  all!  Let  each  atune 
his  ear  to  solemn  tones !  Listen, 
I  sing  the  song  of  songs  !  Hear 
it,  my  German  brothers !  Echo 
it,  echo  it  again,  happy  choir ! 


2. 

Deutschlands  Sohne,  laut  er- 
tone  euer  Vaterlandsgesang ! 
Vaterland!  du  Land  des  Ruh- 
mes,  weih,  zu  deines  Heilig- 
tumes  Hiitern,  uns  und  unser 
Schwert ! 


2. 

Germany's  sons,  loud  rings 
your  Fatherland's  song!  Fa- 
therland! the  land  of  glory, 
consecrate  to  your  sacred  pro- 
tection us  and  these  our  swords ! 


138 


THE    GERMANS 


Hab  unci  Leben  dir  zu  geben, 
sind  wir  allesamt  bereit,  ster- 
ben  gern  zu  jeder  Stunde,  ach- 
ten  nicht  der  Todeswunde,  wenn 
das  Vaterland  gebeut. 


Life  and  possessions  are  we 
all  ready  to  give  thee,  glad  to 
die  at  any  hour,  despising  the 
death-wound  when  the  Father- 
land commands. 


Wer's  nicht  fiihlet,  selbst 
nicht  zielet  stets  nach  deutscher 
Manner  Wert,  soil  nicht  unsern 
Bund  entehren,  nicht  bei  diesem 
Degen  schworen,  nicht  entwei- 
hen  d-as  deutsche  Schwert. 


5. 
Lied  der  Lieder,  hall  es  wie- 
der ;  gross  und  deutsch  sei  unser 
Mut!  Seht  hier  den  geweihten 
Degen,  tut,  wie  braven  Bur- 
schen  pflegen,  und  durchbohrt, 
den  f reien  Hut ! 

6. 
Seht  ihn  blinken  in  der  Lin- 
ken,  diesen  Schlager,  nie  ent- 
weiht!  Ich  durchbohr  den 
Hut  und  schwore,  halten  will 
ich  stets  auf  Ehre,  stets  ein 
braver  Bursche  sein. 

7.  ' 
Nimm  den  Becher,  wackrer 
Zecher,  vaterlandschen  Trankes 
voll !  Nimm  den  Schlager  in 
die  Linke,  bohr  ihn  durch  den 
Hut  und  trinke  auf  des  Vater- 
landes  Wohl! 


He  who  does  not  feel  this,  he 
who  strives  not  always  to  attain 
the  worth  of  German  men,  shall 
not  dishonor  our  union,  shall 
not  swear  by  this  weapon,  shall 
not  desecrate  the  German 
sword. 

5. 
Song  of  songs,  echo  it  again, 
great  and  German  be  our  cour- 
age !  See  here,  the  consecrated 
weapon;  do,  as  is  the  custom 
of  brave  fellows,  and  pierce 
through  the  cap  of  freedom ! 

6. 
See  it  flashing  in  the  left 
hand — the  sword  never  desecra- 
ted !  I  pierce  the  cap  and  swear 
that  I  will  ever  hold  to  honor, 
ever  be  a  true  fellow  (Bur- 
sche). 


Bold  drinker,  take  the  cup, 
brimming  with  the  Fatherland's 
toast!  Take  the  sword  in  the 
left  hand,  pierce  the  cap,  and 
drink  to  the  glory  of  the  Fa- 
therland. 


THE   EMPEROR'S   BIRTHDAY      139 

Here  follows  the  second  part  of  the  ceremony, 
when  the  caps  are  given  back  to  certain  verses  of 
the  song,  which  concludes  thus — 


10. 

Auf,  ihr  Festgenossen,  achtet 
unsre  Sitte,  heilig,  schon !  Ganz 
mit  Herz  uiid  Seele  trachtet, 
stets  als  Manner  zu  bestehen. 
Froh  ziim  Fest  ihr  trauten 
Briider,  jeder  sei  der  Vater 
wert!  Keiner  taste  je  an's 
Schwert,  der  nicht  edel  ist  und 
bieder. 

II 

Ruhe  von  der  Burschenfeier, 
blanker  Weihedegen,  nun !  Je- 
der trachte,  wackrer  Freier  um 
das  Vaterland  zu  sein !  Jedem 
Heil,  der  sich  bemiihte  ganz  zu 
sein  der  Vater  wert!  keiner 
taste  je  an's  Schwert,  der  nicht 
edel  ist  und  bieder. 


10. 

Thus,  companions,  respect 
our  custom,  holy,  beautiful ! 
With  heart  and  soul  strive  to 
live  as  men.  Joyous  in  the 
feast,  let  each  be  worthy  of  his 
fathers,  let  no  one  touch  the 
sword  who  is  not  noble  and 
true. 


II 

Shining  weapon,  rest  now 
from  this  our  ceremony!  Let 
each  endeavor  to  be  the  brave 
defender  of  the  Fatherland! 
Hail  to  him  who  strives  to  be 
worthy  of  his  race;  and  let  no 
one  touch  the  sword  who  is  not 
noble  and  true. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  DUEL 

Student  life  and  an  incident — or  rather  tragedy 
— which  was  recently  related  to  me  leads  me  natur- 
ally to  the  subject  of  dueling  in  Germany.  Briefly 
the  tragedy — which  is  not  of  recent  date,  and,  in- 
deed, belongs  to  all  ages — is  as  follows :  Two  oiB- 
cers,  nicknamed  Castor  and  Pollux  on  account  of 
their  unusually  close  and  long  friendship,  were  sta- 
tioned together  in  some  desolate  frontier  garrison. 
Castor  married.  His  wife,  a  young  and  pretty 
woman,  came,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  share  her 
husband's  dreary  and  monotonous  existence,  and — 
equally  as  a  matter  of  course — was  bored  to  extinc- 
tion. Now  she  was  musical,  and  it  so  happened  that 
Pollux  was  also  musical,  and,  as  Hausfreund,  it 
was  only  natural  that  he  should  constantly  come 
to  the  house  to  play  duets  with  his  friend's  wife. 

As  time  went  on,  ugly  whispers  were  heard — how 
much  truth  there  was  in  them  no  one  knows — and 
the  day  came  when  the  Colonel  called  Castor  to 

140 


THE    DUEL  141 

him  and  warned  him  that  the  honor  of  the  regiment 
demanded  that  the  scandal  should  be  put  an  end  to. 
Castor  put  an  end  to  it.  No  doubt  he  discovered 
enough  to  justify  the  extreme  course,  but,  be  it  as 
it  may,  he  challenged  his  lifelong  friend  the  same 
night,  and  the  next  morning  was  shot  dead  by  him. 
It  seemed  indeed  as  though  the  "Gottesgericht" 
had  once  more  failed  to  pick  out  the  real  culprit, 
but  indeed  Castor  wished  for  no  other  fate.  He  Bad 
lost  his  friend,  his  wife,  his  honor,  and  conse- 
quently his  career,  and  death  was  the  one  possible 
solution.  Pollux  was  sentenced  to  two  years'  for- 
tress, and,  after  the  expiration  of  his  sentence,  left 
the  army  and  married  his  dead  wife's  friend.  All 
this  is  long  ago,  but  I  am  told  that  though  from  that 
hour  fortune  seemed  to  smile  on  him,  he  became  a 
wretched  and  broken  man.  Such  is  the  tragedy. 
It  is  in  no  way  new,  but  it  is  a  typical  instance  of 
the  causes  which  lead  to  a  duel  in  Germany.  It  is 
typical  also  as  regards  the  consequences  which  are 
very  often  fatal. 

Mark  Twain's  most  delightful  description  of  a 
French  duel  is,  without  doubt,  a  truthful  cari- 
cature, but  it  is  significant  that  even  the  Ameri- 
can's unlimited  powers  of  seeing  "the  funny  side 
of  things"  has  not  led  him  to  touch  lightly  on  the 


142  THE    GERMANS 

German  duel.  It  is,  indeed,  not  a  matter  for  jest- 
ing; and  whether  you  approve  or  disapprove,  you 
are  at  least  impressed,  awed  even,  by  the  stern  code 
which  commands  one  man  deliberately  to  demand 
life  for  an  injury  done.  The  German  is  not  given 
to  treating  the  duel,  or  anything  else  for  that 
matter,  with  a  light  or  frivolous  hand.  I  can  not  im- 
agine two  heated  opponents — after  much  advertise- 
ment and  ceremonial — crossing  dainty  foils,  and, 
after  the  first  scratch,  falling  into  each  other's  arms 
in  floods  of  conciliatory  tears.  It  is  a  too  un-Ger- 
man  tableau  to  be  thinkable.  The  German  goes 
out  in  the  early  morning,  unheard  and  unseen  save 
by  those  immediately  concerned,  and  exchanges 
shots  with  his  enemy  at  a  given  number  of  paces 
until  one  or  other  is  hors  de  combat — perhaps  dead. 
Sometimes  the  conditions  may  be  less  severe,  the 
outcome  less  tragic — sometimes,  but  not  often.  For 
the  German  duel  is  a  rarity  even  among  students, 
who  of  all  are  the  most  given  to  the  practice,  and 
when  it  actually  comes  to  pass,  it  means  that  the 
cause  has  been  serious,  requiring  severe  measures. 
I  repeat,  the  duel  is  a  rarity,  not  because  people 
are  beginning  to  disapprove  of  the  system,  but  be- 
cause it  is  not  in  the  German  nature  to  trifle,  least 
of  all  in  the  matter  of  his  honor.  He  does  not  want 


THE    DUEL  143 

to  lay  himself  open  to  the  charge  of  being  ridicu- 
lous, and,  since  everything  which  is  carried  to  ex- 
tremes is  bound  in  the  course  of  time  to  degenerate 
into  the  absurd,  as  in  the  case  of  the  French  duel, 
he  takes  care  that  the  "Zweikampf"  shall  be  a  last 
solemn  measure  resorted  to  when  no  other  course 
is  possible. 

No  doubt,  from  the  English  point  of  view,  there 
is  always  another  course  that  is  possible.  Had 
the  tragedy  which  I  have  just  related  taken  place 
in  England,  Castor  would  have  simply  sought  his 
vengeance  in  the  murky  atmosphere  of  the  Divorce 
Court,  and  there  would  have  been  an  end  of  the 
matter.  But  the  German  sees  that  matter  from  an- 
other standpoint.  His  honor  is  his  fetish,  the  foun- 
dations on  which  his  whole  life  is  built,  and  a  man 
who  had  gone  through  Castor's  experience  would 
argue  that  he  had  not  only  lost  his  domestic  happi- 
ness, but  that  his  highest  earthly  treasure  had  been 
brutally  trodden  under  foot,  his  good  name  for  ever 
sullied.  He  would  argue  that  a  court  of  justice 
does  not  and  can  not  repair  this  injury,  and  that  to 
drag  his  name  through  the  mud  of  publicity  is  only 
to  add  disgrace  to  disgrace.  Hence  he  stands  in 
contemptuous  wonder  before  the  picture  of  the 
Englishman  who  allows  the  holiest  and  ugliest  de- 


144  THE    GERMANS 

tails  of  his  private  life  to  be  made  the  food  for  every 
daily  rag,  and  who  will  even  accept  money  in  re- 
turn for  the  injury  done  him.  For  him  such  a 
course  would  be  an  impossibility,  a  horrible  ab- 
surdity, which  would  damn  him  for  ever  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world  as  a  coward,  a  man  without  suffi- 
cient personal  courage  to  protect  his  honor,  or — 
worse  still — without  sufficient  sense  of  honor  to 
make  the  protection  a  necessity.  I  once  had  a  long 
discussion  on  the  subject  with  a  German  gentle- 
man, and  tried  to  make  our  standpoint  clear  to  him, 
but  he  had  always  the  same  answer — 

"The  man  w^ho  takes  money  for  his  honor  has 
never  had  any  honor.  He  is  a  merchant  who  trades 
with  his  name  and  reputation." 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  discuss  the  ethical  rights 
and  wrongs  of  the  case,  but  it  must  be  admitted 
that  in  certain  circumstances  justice  is  helpless  to 
make  reparation.  If  it  be  said  that  in  the  duel  it  is 
more  often  than  not  the  chief  culprit  who  gets  off 
unpunished,  I  can  only  retort  that  the  same  thing 
usually  happens  in  the  courts.  Imagine  Castor  in 
the  witness-box  giving  evidence  against  his  wife 
and  dearest  friend,  making  a  public  scandal  of  all 
that  was  best  and  most  sacred  in  his  life,  and  ac- 
cepting money  as  a  consolation!   If  innocence  and 


THE    DUEL  145 

blamelessness  testify  to  a  higher  refinement  and 
sensitiveness,  who  is  most  likely  to  feel  the  most 
— Castor,  the  man  of  honor,  or  Pollux,  who  has  al- 
ready plunged  into  deceit  and  disloyalty?  More- 
over— and  this  applies  especially  to  Germany — the 
mud  thrown  in  a  court  of  justice  is  enough  to 
make  the  man  with  the  most  spotless  reputation 
shrink  from  seeking  protection  in  that  quarter. 

I  need  only  to  think  of  a  certain  great  trial  here, 
when  a  young  and  absolutely  innocent  girl  was  ac- 
cused— without  the  shadow  of  evidence — of  the 
murder  of  her  mother.  It  was  simply  a  detestable 
trick  played  by  the  defenders  of  the  real  culprit, 
but  that  girl's  life  was  made  a  hell  on  earth  for 
something  like  two  years.  She  was  pursued  by  the 
vilest  insinuations,  insults,  and  taunts.  The  mob 
was  incited  against  her;  every  detail  of  her  life,  her 
letters,  her  childhood,  her  clothes — down  to  the 
fact  that  she  wore  silk  petticoats! — was  made  the 
subject  of  the  most  revolting  discussions  in  open 
court,  and  in  the  daily  papers.  She  was  of  good 
family,  gently  nurtured,  highly  educated;  she  had 
lost  her  mother  under  the  most  terrible  circum- 
stances, and  that  these  unchecked  and  purposeless 
calumnies,  and  the  constant  strain  of  their  refuta- 
tion, did  not  turn  her  brain,  has  been  my  constant 


146  THE    GERMANS 

wonder.  For  two  years  she  fought  her  battle  with 
truly  heroic  tenacity,  and  was  at  last  grudgingly 
proclaimed  victor  over  her  calumniators. 

But  what  was  their  slight,  almost  nominal,  pun- 
ishment compared  to  her  sufferings?  An  editor  was 
fined  a  few  hundred  marks — he  made  thousands 
over  the  case — and  her  life  was  ruined.  Not  "all  the 
perfumes  of  Arabia"  could  wash  her  name  clean 
from  the  wanton  scandal  with  which  it  had  been 
sullied,  and  to  the  end  of  her  days  no  doubt  the 
spiteful  people  of  the  world  will  nudge  each  other 
when  they  see  her.  "That  is .  Do  you  remem- 
ber the  great  trial?  They  said  she  murdered  her 
mother,  etc.,  etc.  Where  there  is  smoke  there  is  al- 
ways fire,"  etc.,  etc.  And  all  this  without  the  faint- 
est scrap  of  justification,  except  that  given  by 
notorious  liars  and  perjurers!  It  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered, therefore,  that  a  gentleman,  having  been 
outrageously  insulted  or  injured,  hesitates  to  drag 
his  case  into  a  German  court,  where  spite,  vindic- 
tiveness,  and  calumny  are  allowed  to  flourish  with- 
out hindrance.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he 
prefers  to  take  his  vengeance  in  his  own  hands. 

And,  moreover,  it  is  a  fact  that  dueling  prevents 
scandal,  or,  at  least,  prevents  it  from  spreading. 
People  keep  tighter  reins  on  their  gossiping  pro- 


THE    DUEL  147 

pensities  when  they  know  that  the  object  of  their 
gossip  is  ready  to  demand  life  as  an  atonement. 
Even  if  the  atonement  be  demanded,  and  the  vic- 
tim of  the  calumny  himself  fall,  the  scandal  is  at 
an  end — death  holds  up  a  warning  hand  before 
which  the  most  confirmed  scandal-monger  shrinks 
back  appalled.  Under  such  circumstances  the  duel 
can  only  be  resorted  to  as  an  extreme  measure,  when 
the  insulted  feels  that  death  is  preferable  to  life 
under  the  shadow  of  the  injury  which  has  been 
done  him,  and  a  duel  over  trifles  is  almost  unknown, 
and  universally  condemned.  The  student  is  the 
worst  culprit  in  this  respect;  his  sense  of  honor  is 
deliberately  strained  to  a  state  of  sensitiveness 
which  makes  the  slightest  lack  of  civility  a  cause 
of  quarrel.  Some  time  ago  a  student  of  one  Corps 
neglected  to  salute  a  student  of  another  Corps.  A 
duel  was  the  result,  and  cost  one  of  the  combatants 
his  life.  It  was  an  accident — the  survivor  had  only 
intended  to  disable  his  opponent;  but  public  opin- 
ion was  so  strong  that  both  Corps  were  suspended, 
and  the  seconds  punished.  Had  the  cause  of  the 
duel  been  serious,  no  one  would  have  been  pun- 
ished, for  the  German  civil  law,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  recognizes — in  certain  cases — the  duel  as 
an  inevitable  evil.    Nominal  punishments  are  af- 


148  THE    GERMANS 

fixed,  ranging  from  six  months  to  three  years'  "ar- 
rest," but  the  six  months  can  be  given  in  a  fatal 
case;  and  if  the  cause  of  the  duel  be  proved  suffi- 
ciently se/rious,  and  the  proceedings  throughout 
have  been  correct,  the  survivor  will  probably  re- 
ceive his  pardon  from  the  Emperor  or  the  ruler  of 
the  state.  In  any  case  the  "arrest"  has  no  sort  of 
stigma  attached  to  it — rather  the  contrary — and  it 
must  be  added  that  abuse  of  this  virtual  permission 
is  rare. 

The  student  who  has  had  his  over-sensitive 
honor  wounded  usually  resorts  to  a  "Sabel-Men- 
sur" — a  more  dangerous  form  of  the  ordinary 
Mensur,  which,  however,  has  rarely  a  serious  out- 
come. He  can  not  even  enter  into  such  a  conflict 
without  the  approval  of  the  Ehrengericht — the 
Court  of  Honor — formed  of  impartial  fellow-stu- 
dents, who  consider  if  the  cause  justifies  the  ex- 
treme measure,  and  arranges  that  the  conditions 
shall  be  in  proportion  to  the  seriousness  of  the  of- 
fense. They  are  young  men,  and  it  sometimes  hap- 
pens that  their  decisions  are  not  of  the  wisest,  but, 
on  the  whole,  they  recognize  the  importance  of 
their  mission,  and  endeavor  to  modify  the  condi- 
tions if,  according  to  their  ideas,  the  duel  prove 
inevitable.    The  tragic  and  foolish  case  which  I 


THE   DUEL  149 

have  just  mentioned  happened  some  years  ago,  and 
has  found  no  repetition  as  far  as  I  know.  Without 
doubt  many  duels  are  hushed  up,  and  the  causes — 
especially  when  they  are  serious — limited  to  the 
knowledge  of  those  immediately  concerned;  but  a 
fatal  duel  can  not  be  passed  over  unchronicled,  and 
in  six  years  I  have  only  heard  of  one  case,  and  that 
was  in  another  part  of  Germany.  When  it  is  re- 
membered that  the  German  sense  of  honor  is  ex- 
tremely high-pitched,  and  that  all  men  of  the 
upper  classes  regard  the  duel  as  the  one  and  only  re- 
source for  a  gentleman  who  has  been  insulted,  it 
must  be  admitted  that  the  percentage  is  very  low. 
Possibly  the  reason  is  that,  where  everybody  lives 
in  glass  houses,  everybody  is  very  careful  not  to 
throw  stones,  and  it  is  certainly  true  that  German 
men  are  exceptionally  polite  to  each  other. 

The  civilian  duel  is  the  rarest  duel  of  all.  The 
civilian  has  only  his  personal  honor  to  protect, 
whereas  the  officer  is  guardian  not  only  of  his  own 
but  of  his  professional  honor  (Standesehre),  and 
the  latter  is  the  most  sensitive  of  all.  The  officer, 
in  fact,  is  not  to  be  considered  as  a  private  indi- 
vidual, but  as  the  member  of  a  great  body — one  is 
almost  tempted  to  say  a  sacred  body,  since  the  Ger- 
man considers  the  protection  of  King  and  Father- 


I50  THE    GERMANS 

land  a  sacred  duty.  Hence  an  officer  who  is  in- 
sulted is  twice  insulted,  and  if  he  does  not  immedi- 
ately resort  to  arms  he  is  considered  unworthy  of 
his  post,  and  is  dismissed  from  the  army. 

^'I  expect,"  stands  in  the  Emperor's  proclama- 
tion of  1872,  "from  the  whole  officers'  Corps  of  my 
army  that  as  in  the  past,  so  in  the  future.  Honor 
shall  be  its  highest  treasure,  to  keep  it  pure  and 
spotless  the  highest  duty  of  the  individual  and  of 
the  whole  body." 

This  "Honor"  entails  something  more  than  our 
idea  of  honor.  It  requires  not  only  that  a  man 
should  abstain  from  every  unworthy  action,  but 
that  he  should  represent  outwardly  in  his  person, 
in  his  words  and  actions,  a  high  ideal  which  he 
must  defend  with  his  life  from  insult,  from  ridi- 
cule, from  humiliation.  This  does  not  mean  that  a 
young  lieutenant  has  the  right  to  challenge  his 
colonel  when  the  latter  has  the  audacity  to  find 
fault  with  him.  This  sort  of  insult  must  be  sto- 
ically swallowed,  and  all  sensitiveness  kept  out  of 
sight  where  duty  is  concerned.  Indeed,  if  a  superior 
officer  accepts  a  challenge  from  a  subordinate,  it 
costs  both  him  and  the  challenger  "the  collar,"  as 
the  saying  goes — in  other  words,  both  will  be  re- 
quested to  send  in  their  commissions. 


COWWaHT,  BV  UNDEBV»0O0  . 


National  Art   Gallery,   Berlin 


THE   DUEL  151 

It  is  only  outside  the  actual  military  service,  in 
the  private  life  of  the  officer,  that  the  duel  plays  a 
part.  Then  anybody  who  attacks  by  word  or  deed 
a  member  of  the  officers'  Corps  is  guilty  of  an  in- 
direct lese  Majeste,  and  unless  an  apology  is  imme- 
diately forthcoming,  the  punishment  is  swift  and 
sure.  This  is  known ;  the  German  accepts  the  situa- 
tion. He  treats  the  officer  with  careful  respect  and 
courtesy,  and  the  officer  in  turn  treats  him  with  a 
cautious  formality.  It  follows  as  a  natural  result 
that  among  the  officers  themselves  all  "ragging," 
chafif  out  of  moderation,  rough  manners,  a  "letting- 
oneself-go,"  is  almost  unknown.  Such  things  can 
but  lead  to  the  most  disastrous  results,  and  it  is  the 
business  of  every  comrade  to  stop  a  quarrel  or  a 
joke  before  it  reaches  a  point  where  there  is  no 
turning  back.  For  it  is  a  mistake  to  imagine  that 
duelling  is  in  any  way  encouraged  or  looked  upon 
with  favor.  It  is  looked  upon  in  the  light  of  a 
dangerous  but  sometimes  unavoidable  operation  in 
a  case  which  has  gone  too  far  to  be  cured  by  any 
other  means.  An  officer  who  has  fought  in  a  duel 
has  cast  a  serious  shadow  over  his  own  career;  it  is 
considered  a  sign  of  tactlessness,  lack  of  self-con- 
trol, and  so  on,  faults  which  obviously  unfit  him  for 
a  high  post.  If  he  has  fought  without  just  cause,  or 


152  THE    GERMANS 

forced  a  comrade  into  a  quarrel  with  deliberate 
intent,  he  is  summarily  dismissed  from  the  army. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  may  not  refuse  to  fight.  If 
he  does  so  the  same  punishment  awaits  him.  The 
case  is  put  clearly  by  the  Emperor  himself  in  the 
course  of  the  proclamation  which  I  have  already 
quoted : 

"The  Court  of  Honor  shall  only  proceed  against 
officers  on  account  of  a  duel  when  one  or  other  of 
the  combatants  has,  either  as  regards  the  cause  or 
the  conduct  of  the  quarrel,  sinned  against  the 
Standesehre.  This  must  happen  in  the  possible  case 
of  an  officer  criminally  and  without  any  cause  in- 
sulting a  comrade.  For  I  will  as  little  tolerate  in 
my  army  an  officer  who  is  capable  of  wickedly  in- 
juring a  comrade's  honor,  as  I  will  tolerate  an  of- 
ficer who  does  not  know  how  to  defend  his  honor." 

On  another  occasion,  I  believe,  he  declared  that 
he  would  punish  an  officer  who  fought  in  a  duel, 
but  that  he  would  dismiss  an  officer  who  refused  a 
challenge. 

Thus  it  is  clear  that  the  duel  is  a  serious  matter 
from  whatever  point  it  is  considered,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  a  ruined  career  is  sufficient  to  prevent  the 
young  hot-heads  from  allowing  their  passions  to 
get  the  better  of  them.   Moreover,  there  is  always 


THE   DUEL  153 

the  Court  of  Honor — composed  of  specially 
elected  officers  from  the  regiment — which,  if  it  has 
not  actually  the  power  to  prevent  a  duel,  must  al- 
ways be  informed,  and  in  correct  cases  decide 
whether  there  is  sufficient  cause,  and  what  the  con- 
ditions of  the  duel  should  be.  A  duel  must  be 
fought  within  twenty-four  hours  of  the  challenge, 
and  all  the  arrangements,  the  informing  of  the 
court,  the  endeavors  to  bring  about  a  reconcilia- 
tion, and  so  on,  is  given  into  the  hands  of  the  two 
seconds.  Pistols  are  nearly  always  used,  though 
sabers  are  allowed,  and  the  distance  and  conditions, 
either  a  certain  number  of  shots,  or  continued  firing 
until  one  or  both  the  combatants  are  hors  de  com- 
bat, depend  entirely  on  the  severity  of  the  insult. 
But,  as  I  have  said,  it  rarely  happens  that  trifles 
bring  about  such  disasters.  There  is  nearly  always 
some  tactful  comrade  at  hand  to  prevent  matters 
from  reaching  danger  point,  and  thus  when  a  duel 
actually  takes  place,  the  conditions  are  usually 
serious.  The  so-called  American  duel  is  looked 
upon  as  ^^unritterlich"  (unchivalrous),  and  is  never 
practised. 

So  much  for  the  duel  as  it  exists  in  the  German 
army.  It  may  be  decreasing,  but  I  do  not  believe 
that  it  will  ever  cease  to  be  a  national  institution 


154  THE    GERMANS 

in  certain  classes  of  society,  so  long  as  it  has  the 
support  of  the  Emperor.  Only  the  other  day  an 
anxious  member  of  the  Reichstag  brought  in  an 
appeal  that  duelling  in  the  army  might  be  alto- 
gether suppressed.  The  government  retorted  that 
for  men  of  honor  the  duel  was  a  necessity,  and  that 
it  had  no  intention  of  interfering. 

In  conclusion,  I  must  mention  the  most  difficult 
and  the  most  disastrous  form  of  duelling — that  be- 
tween the  officer  and  the  civilian.  Between  one  of- 
ficer and  another  the  matter  is  simple  enough. 
Both  men  are  governed  by  the  same  code ;  but  the 
civilian  makes  his  own  laws,  and  should  he  be  of 
democratic  tendencies,  he  may  refuse  to  fight  alto- 
gether. Or,  what  is  worse  from  the  officer's  point 
of  view,  he  may  prove  not  "satisfactionsfahig"  (not 
in  a  social  position  in  equality  with  the  challenger) . 
If  an  officer  has  been  publicly  insulted  by  a  civilian 
who  will  not  accept  his  challenge,  or  who  is  be- 
neath him  socially,  little  remains  for  him  but  to 
send  in  his  commission — he  has  allowed  the  uni- 
form to  be  insulted,  and  has  been  unable  to  de- 
mand satisfaction.  Should  he  actually  receive  a 
blow,  he  has  no  option  but  to  draw  his  sword,  and 
it  is  expressly  stated  that  he  must  not  draw  it 


THE   DUEL  155 

merely  to  threaten  or  intimidate.  Count  von 
Schwerin  wrote  as  follows  on  the  subject: 

^Without  any  fault  of  his  it  can  happen  that  an 
officer  is  insulted  (a  blow  is  meant  in  this  instance) 
by  a  man  from  whom  he  can  not  demand  satisfac- 
tion. In  such  a  case,  where  the  attack  is  usually  un- 
expected and  treacherous,  it  is  necessary  to  act  with 
the  greatest  determination;  then  the  officer  must 
make  use  of  his  weapon.  An  officer  who  sees  him- 
self forced,  either  after  an  attack  or  before  a  threat- 
ening attack,  to  draw  his  sword  must  never  do  so 
simply  to  frighten." 

This  law  has  led  to  more  than  one  tragedy, 
though  it  must  be  said  to  the  credit  of  the  German 
lower  classes,  and  to  the  self-control  of  the  officers 
themselves,  that  they  are  very  rare.  A  case  of  this 
description  actually  occurred  in  Karlsruhe  some 
time  ago.  An  officer  was  seated  with  friends  in  a 
rather  second-class  cafe,  when  a  man  of  inferior 
social  position,  passing  behind  his  chair,  deliber- 
ately tried  to  tip  it  up  and  throw  the  officer  to  the 
ground.  The  officer  thought  it  wiser  to  treat  the 
matter  as  an  accident,  and  went  on  talking.  The 
man  passed  a  second  time,  acting  in  the  same  man- 
ner. The  officer,  feeling  that  the  incident  had  been 


156  THE    GERMANS 

witnessed  by  every  one  in  the  cafe,  and  that  he  was 
the  object  of  general  interest,  rose  to  his  feet  and 
demanded  an  explanation.  The  man  answered  in- 
solently, and  the  officer,  seeing  with  whom  he  had 
to  deal,  and  infuriated  by  the  disastrous  tangle  in 
which  he  had  innocently  become  involved,  hastily 
left  the  cafe,  intending  to  report  the  matter  to  head- 
quarters. As  ill-luck  would  have  it,  his  opponent 
had  meanwhile  been  thrust  out  of  a  side  door  by  the 
indignant  proprietor  of  the  cafe,  and  the  two  men 
came  suddenly  face  to  face  at  the  corner.  Whether 
the  civilian  meant  to  attack  or  not  is  uncertain.  At 
any  rate  the  officer  saw  in  this  reappearance  a  fur- 
ther intention  to  insult  him,  and,  drawing  his 
sword,  ran  his  aggressor  through  the  body.  Ac- 
cording to  the  laws  which  govern  his  profession,  he 
acted  in  the  only  way  possible,  but  he  was  none  the 
less  severely  punished,  and  afterward  sent  out  to 
East  Africa  to  a  certain  death,  not  because  he  had 
killed  the  civilian,  but  because  he  had  mixed  in 
society  which  was  not  fitting  for  a  man  wearing 
the  king's  uniform,  and  had  allowed  the  quarrel 
to  reach  a  stage  where  he  could  not  have  acted 
otherwise. 

It  can  be  imagined  that  under  these  conditions 
the  officer  in  uniform  is  chary  of  all  civilian  society 


THE   DUEL  157 

which  is  in  the  least  ''mixed,"  and  is  never  to  be 
seen  in  any  but  first-class  restaurants  and  places  of 
amusement.  All  this  has  helped  to  close  him  in  a 
narrow,  exclusive  circle,  cutting  him  off  from  all 
other  classes,  and  making  him,  as  I  shall  attempt  to 
describe  him  in  the  next  chapter,  a  man  apart. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  COAT  OF  MANY  COLORS 

There  are  four  regiments  stationed  in  Karlsruhe, 
two  Artillery,  one  Dragoon,  and  one  Grenadier,  be- 
side what  is  called  a  Telegraphabteilung,  and  a 
battalion  of  Army  Service  Corps,  forming  in  all  a 
force  of  about  five  thousand  men  and  two  hundred 
officers.  You  would  expect,  therefore,  to  find  the 
principal  street  bright  with  uniforms,  and  to 
breathe  a  highly  military  atmosphere.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  you  would  scarcely  notice  that  you  were  in 
a  garrison  town  at  all,  unless  you  were  led  to  the 
gates  of  the  barracks;  and  you  can  wander  up  and 
down  the  Kaiser  Strasse  for  hours  at  the  busiest 
time  of  the  day,  and  perhaps  meet  a  couple  of  of- 
ficers and  a  handful  of  privates  all  on  business 
bound.  This  fact  is  all  the  more  remarkable  be- 
cause you  meet  every  one  on  the  Kaiser  Strasse;  it 
is  a  sort  of  public  at-home,  so  that  if  you  particu- 
larly want  to  see  a  friend  without  going  to  the 
bother  of  calling,  you  need  only  parade  the  street 

158 


THE    COAT   OF   MANY   COLORS      159 

at  a  certain  hour  of  the  day  to  attain  your  purpose. 
But  the  officer  is  a  vara  avis  among  the  Bummelers. 
You  can  have  a  dozen  acquaintances  in  a  regiment 
and  never  meet  a  single  one  of  them  out-of-doors, 
except  perhaps  on  the  way  to  the  opera  in  the  even- 
ing. Where,  then,  are  these  two  hundred  wearers 
of  the  ^'Bunten  Rock,"  and  what  is  their  life  that 
they  can  not  afford  the  time  to  take  their  sociable 
stroll  like  other  mortals?  Such  was  the  question  I 
once  asked  a  young  lieutenant  at  a  dance.  He  was 
the  picture  of  physical  weariness,  and  though  he 
danced  and  talked  with  heroic  tenacity,  one  could 
see  that  he  was  ready  to  sink  into  the  nearest  chair 
and  sleep  the  sleep  of  the  dead.  He  looked  at  me 
reproachfully. 

"What  do  I  do  all  day?"  he  said.  "Would  you 
really  like  to  know?" 

I  assured  him  that  it  would  interest  me  ex- 
tremely, and  he  proceeded  with  the  day's  pro- 
gramme. 

"I  get  up  at  half-past  six  in  the  morning.  At 
half-past  seven  I  am  all  ready  for  the  march  with 
the  troops,  with  whom  I  exercise  until  half-past  ten. 
At  eleven  I  have  my  riding  lessons,  which  last  until 
half-past  twelve.  From  one  o'clock  to  three  is 
pause.  At  three  o'clock  I  instruct  the  under-officers 


i6o  THE    GERMANS 

in  history  and  strategy.  At  five  o'clock  I  have  my 
first  solid  meal,  and  can  have  my  bath  and  change 
my  uniform.  From  six  to  seven  I  hold  a  lecture  to 
the  recruits.  After  that  I  can  go  to  the  opera,  un- 
less I  am  too  tired,  or  invited  or  commanded  to 
some  military  function,  in  w^hich  case  I  can  not 
reckon  on  more  than  four  or  five  hours'  sleep. 
Later  on  I  am  going  in  for  the  staff  examination, 
and  then  I  don't  see  how  I  am  going  to  get  to  bed 
at  all." 

He  said  all  this  v^ith  a  cheerfulness  which  was 
almost  pathetic,  taken  in  connection  with  his  boyish 
face,  and  he  then  threw  off  his  weariness  to  relate 
to  me  all  the  details  of  his  soldier's  life,  his  love  for 
his  work,  his  interest  in  his  recruits,  his  hopes  for 
the  future.  Gradually,  as  I  listened  to  him,  I  for- 
got his  extreme  youth.  Beneath  the  enthusiasm 
there  was  already  the  deeper  note  of  a  solemn  re- 
sponsibility, the  knowledge  that  the  uniform  he 
wore  was  the  outward  symbol  of  a  sacred  trust.  I 
met  him  again  two  or  three  years  later,  when  the 
novelty  of  his  life  had  worn  off,  and  although  he 
could  not  have  been  more  than  twenty-two,  all  his 
boyishness  was  gone,  all  the  overflow  of  enthusi- 
asm. The  enthusiasm  was  still  there,  but  it  had  be- 
come the  stern,  controlled  enthusiasm  of  a  fully 


THE   COAT   OF   MANY   COLORS      i6i 

developed  man,  who  has  already  weathered  the 
troubles,  disappointments,  and  trials  of  a  strenuous 
career.  It  was  impossible  to  imagine  him  indulg- 
ing in  some  mad  youthful  prank  or  running  into 
any  form  of  excess.  His  duty — the  great  fetish  of 
the  German  soldier — demanded  his  mind  and  body 
and  soul.  No  doubt  he  was  an  extreme  case,  the 
type  of  ambition  which  is  always  feverish  to  be  get- 
ting on;  and  no  doubt  there  are  many  of  his  com- 
rades who  are  content  merely  to  do  what  they  must 
and  take  the  pleasures  that  offer  themselves. 

It  would  not  be  too  much  to  say  that  the  lazy 
good-for-nothing  does  not  and  can  not  exist  in  the 
German  army — or  if  he  exists,  it  is  only  for  a  short 
breathing  space,  until  the  inevitable  time  comes 
when  the  eyes  of  the  powers-that-be  pass  critically 
over  his  career,  and  he  is  weeded  out  with  the  most 
merciless  promptitude.  It  does  not  often  happen 
that  this  weeding  process  is  necessary,  for  the  sim- 
ple reason  that  before  a  young  man  is  allowed  to 
don  his  lieutenant's  epaulettes  he  has  already  been 
through  a  severe  test  as  regards  his  mental  and 
moral  standards.  The  tests  are  threefold.  Either 
he  has  been  brought  up  in  the  Cadettenschule — the 
most  economical  way — from  whence  he  passes  into 
the  army  as  ensign,  or  he  is  prepared  in  the  Gym- 


i62  THE    GERMANS 

nasium,  and  must  serve  first  as  a  common  soldier, 
working  his  way  up  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant,  or  he 
may  enter  through  the  ^^back  door,"  as  it  is  called. 
The  latter  possibility  comes  into  consideration  in 
the  case  of  an  Einjahriger  (an  ordinary  civilian 
serving  his  year  with  the  colors),  who,  having 
shown  a  strong  liking  and  talent  for  the  military 
profession,  and  having  won  the  favor  of  his  superi- 
ors, is  invited  to  remain.  This  does  not  often  hap- 
pen, however.  The  first  two  entrances  are  the  most 
usual,  though  it  does  not  by  any  means  follow  that 
they  are  open  to  everybody. 

An  officer  who  had  been  commanded  as  instruc- 
tor to  the  Cadettenhaus  told  me  that  out  of  ten  boys 
under  his  charge  only  one  had  become  an  officer. 
Either  through  mental,  physical,  or  moral  unfitness 
the  other  nine  were  all  weeded  out  before  they  took 
their  places  in  the  army.  They  were  not  necessarily 
bad,  weak,  or  stupid — they  simply  had  not  the  pe- 
culiar virtues  which  a  German  officer  must  possess. 
Absolute  veracity,  self-control,  punctuality,  a  high 
conception  of  duty,  and  the  Standesehre,  and  a  cer- 
tain personal  dignity,  is  the  least  which  is  expected. 
It  goes  without  saying  that  good  birth  is  among  the 
first  requirements.  In  most  cases  it  is  necessary  to 
have  two  relations  in  the  army,  who  stand  as  a 


THE    COAT   OF   MANY    COLORS      163 

sort  of  guarantee,  but  if  the  family  prove  unex- 
ceptional, this  rule  can  be  dispensed  with.  In  any 
case,  whether  the  candidate  seek  his  admission 
through  the  Cadettenschule,  or  the  Gymnasium,  or 
the  back  door,  whether  he  has  protection  and  high 
birth,  or  whether  he  has  no  protection,  and  is  the 
plainest  of  the  plain  family  of  Miiller,  he  has  one 
final  barrier  to  surmount  over  which  no  human 
power,  not  even  that  of  the  Emperor,  can  help  him. 
If  in  the  course  of  his  ensign's  career  he  has  made 
himself  unpopular,  or  has  shown  unfavorable 
qualities,  the  officers  of  the  regiment  to  which  he  is 
attached  black-ball  him  at  his  election,  and  there  is 
the  end  of  his  military  activity.  It  is  indeed  suffi- 
cient for  one  vote  against  his  admission  into  the 
brotherhood  to  shut  him  out  for  ever,  though  it 
must  be  understood  that  the  vote  may  not  be  given 
without  a  proper  and  proven  reason.  The  officer 
who  votes  out  of  spite  runs  the  very  real  risk  of 
being  cashiered  himself,  so  that  a  young  fellow  who 
is  really  fitted  for  his  future  post  has  nothing  to 
fear  from  the  judgment  of  his  comrades.  This 
power  which  is  given  into  the  hands  of  the  officer's 
corps  has  successfully  stemmed  the  invasion  of  the 
Jew  and  the  parvenu,  and  it  has  helped  to  make  the 
bond  of  comradeship  closer  and  stronger. 


i64  THE    GERMANS 

And  the  life  of  the  German  officer,  once  his  ad- 
mission has  been  secured,  of  what  does  it  consist 
that  it  should  be  looked  upon  by  so  many  as  the 
most  enviable?  It  is  often  a  brilliant  misery,  a 
brilliant  show,  and  behind  the  scenes  strenuous, 
unremitting  labor,  poor  prospects,  a  hand-to-hand 
struggle  with  poverty.  For  the  officer,  like  the 
aristocrat,  is  rarely  a  man  of  means;  his  pay  is 
absolutely  inadequate  and  remains  inadequate  even 
in  the  highest  posts,  and  yet  he  must  always  repre- 
sent his  position  worthily:  he  must  wear  spotless 
uniforms,  he  must  ride  good  horses,  he  must  take 
his  share  in  the  life  of  his  comrades,  he  must  never 
be  seen  either  in  a  place  of  refreshment  or  amuse- 
ment that  is  not  first-class — inevitably  in  price  as 
well  as  in  quality.  The  pay  of  a  careful  lieutenant 
in  a  line  regiment  may  cover  his  bare  military  ex- 
penses— his  uniforms,  mess  bills,  subscriptions,  etc., 
but  it  will  do  no  more  than  that,  and  it  is  therefore 
a  law  that  no  one  can  become  an  officer  without  a 
guarantee  "Zulage"  of  at  least  £3  a  month.  This  is 
the  very  least — it  is  granted  by  the  Emperor  in  de- 
serving cases — but  it  is  the  most  pitiful  penury. 

I  heard  of  one  young  officer,  in  a  crack  regiment 
in  Berlin,  who  existed  on  this  sum,  and  the  tale  of 
his  struggles  has  always  aroused  my  deepest  admi- 


*       ^        » 


COPVRIGHT,  BV  ONOERWOOO  4  UNDCnwoOO, 


The   splendid   German   infantry 


THE    COAT   OF   MANY    COLORS      165 

ration.  He  even  washed  his  pocket-handkerchiefs 
himself,  and  cleaned  his  white  kid  gloves  with  ben- 
zine, and  lived  on  food  which  would  make  the 
British  workman  even  sorrier  for  himself  than  he 
is.  Yet  he  was  one  of  the  smartest  men  of  his  regi- 
ment! This  is,  of  course,  an  extreme  case,  and  was 
only  possible  in  earlier  and  cheaper  days,  but  in 
modified  degrees  the  same  heroic  struggle  is  to  be 
found  everywhere. 

And  then  there  is  the  blank  hopelessness  of  it 
all.  An  ordinarily  intelligent  man  has  positively 
no  prospects.  The  advancement  is  painfully 
slow — he  is  generally  ten  to  fourteen  years  a  lieu- 
tenant— and  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events  the 
Emperor  will  graciously  dispense  with  his  services 
in  the  best  years  of  his  life.  He  may,  perhaps,  reach 
the  rank  of  major  or  lieutenant-colonel,  and  then 
one  fine  morning  he  will  wake  up  to  find  the  fatal 
blue  letter  on  his  table  and  know  that  his  career  is 
finished;  that  hale,  hearty,  hard-working,  and 
faithful  though  he  may  be,  his  country  has  no  more 
need  of  him.  "Going  to  bed  with  the  helmet  and 
waking  up  with  the  top-hat,"  is  the  officer's  whim- 
sical description  of  the  incident.  But  in  reality  this 
is  the  tragedy  of  German  military  life,  and  it  is  one 
to  which  most  must  look  forward.  An  intelligence 


i66  THE    GERMANS 

even  well  above  the  average  is  not  sufficient  to  guar- 
antee a  successful,  much  less  a  brilliant,  career. 
For  one  good  post  there  are  always  a  hundred  can- 
didates ;  and  what  good  does  it  do  B.  if  he  has  done 
well  in  his  examination  if  A.  has  done  better?  The 
prize  is  not  for  him.  And  what  of  A.'s  career?  It 
is  not  said  that  now  he  has  been  passed  into  the 
Staff  College  his  success  is  established.  Without 
means,  without  family,  he  is  still  unlikely  to  rise 
to  any  high  post.  Study  the  Rangliste,  and  you  will 
find  that  the  generals,  commanders  and  so  on  are 
all  men  of  noble  birth,  and  only  under  exceptional 
circumstances  is  the  necessary  (not  hereditary) 
patent  of  nobility  granted  to  a  talented  bourgeois 
officer. 

So  much  for  the  prospects.  Added  to  the  hope- 
lessness of  the  average  officer's  outlook,  there  is  the 
strenuous,  almost  unremitting,  duty,  its  exhausting 
monotony,  the  short,  insignificant  respites.  The  au- 
thorities recognize  the  brain-killing  propensities  of 
the  daily  routine,  and  as  much  as  possible  is  done 
to  give  the  officer  a  chance  to  see  the  world  and  to 
gain  experience  and  relaxation.  There  are  "Com- 
mandos" abroad  for  the  officer  who  wishes  to  study 
languages.  Commandos  in  Berlin,  Hanover,  and  so 
on,  and  the  officer  who  can  afford  it  is  always  given 


THE    COAT   OF    MANY    COLORS      167 

leave  to  travel  and  hunt  even  in  the  most  remote 
corners  of  the  hemisphere.  But  how  many  officers 
can  afford  such  luxuries?  And  the  officer  who  has 
been  granted  one  brilliant  Commando — say  to  the 
riding-school  in  Hanover  for  a  year — need  hope 
for  no  more  bon  bouches  of  that  sort  for  a  long  time 
to  come.  So  the  daily  round  goes  on.  In  Karlsruhe 
the  life  is  comparatively  full  of  relaxation.  At  a  din- 
ner party  in  Berlin,  where  officers  from  a  dozen  reg- 
iments were  gathered  together,  a  civilian  observed 
that  they  had  all  grumbled  about  their  garrisons 
except  a  certain  Lieutenant  X.,  who  had  listened  to 
the  complainings  with  a  smile  of  sweet  content. 

"That  would  be  the  last  straw  if  he  grumbled!" 
retorted  a  Hussar  captain.  *^He  is  stationed  at 
Karlsruhe.  There  isn't  one  of  us  who  wouldn't 
crawl  on  his  knees  backwards  to  get  there!" 

No  doubt  the  Karlsruhe  citizen  would  shake  his 
head  over  such  a  reckless  statement,  but  the  officer 
is  less  spoiled  and  the  despised  residenz  is  a  wildly 
exciting  spot,  a  military  paradise,  compared  to  the 
garrisons  of  some  of  the  best  regiments.  Here,  at 
least,  the  officer  is  the  enfant  gate  at  court  and  in 
society.  'He  has  more  invitations  than  he  can  ac- 
cept, and  if  he  should  have  an  evening  free  he  has 
a  seat  in  the  opera  practically  without  charge. 


i68  THE    GERMANS 

It  is  very  different  with  some  of  his  less  fortunate 
comrades.  Far  away  on  the  desolate  Russian 
frontier,  in  miserable  villages  where  there  is  no 
house  to  which  a  man  could  bring  his  wife  and 
children,  out  of  reach  of  all  human  intercourse 
outside  the  regiment,  hundreds  of  officers,  belong- 
ing to  crack  regiments  for  the  most  part,  are 
spending  the  best  years  of  their  life  with  only  the 
faintest  prospect  of  one  day  being  transferred — 
perhaps  to  some  garrison  a  degree  worse!  These 
garrisons  are  the  most  dangerous  for  the  young  of- 
ficer. It  is  there  that  in  pure  desperation  he  is 
tempted  to  drink  and  gambling,  though  he  knows 
that  both  vices  are  his  sure  undoing.  Even  if  the 
commander  at  his  own  risk  ventures  to  close  an  eye 
to  the  conduct  of  his  officers,  his  sin  is  bound  to  find 
him  out.  There  comes  the  pitiless  strain  of  the 
manceuvers,  and  only  he  who  is  fit  in  mind  and 
body  can  pass  through  the  ordeal  in  safety. 

The  yearly  manoeuvers  are  the  high  test  which 
IS  put  to  the  whole  body  and  to  each  individual. 
It  is  the  great  winnowing  time  of  the  German  army. 
When  the  two  months  are  over  the  "Blue  Letters" 
are  as  plentiful  as  leaves  in  autumn.  Generals  who 
have  failed  to  distinguish  themselves,  colonels 
whose  regiments  have  lacked  smartness,  captains 


THE    COAT   OF   MANY   COLORS      169 

who  have  "muddled,"  sometimes  even  lieutenants 
— they  all  go  through  the  unpleasant  experience 
which  I  have  already  described  as  exchanging  the 
helmet  for  the  top-hat.  Consequently  the  profli- 
gate and  the  incapable  is  the  great  exception,  and 
his  career  is  short  and  disastrous.  He  is  like  a 
badly  working  cog  in  an  immense  piece  of  machin- 
ery, and  he  is  promptly  taken  out,  thrown  on  the 
rubbish  heap,  and  replaced  by  another  and  better. 
"All  actions  which  can  injure  the  reputation  of 
the  individual  or  of  the  whole  body,  especially  all 
dissipation,  drinking,  gambling,  the  acceptation  of 
obligations  which  might  have  the  appearance  of 
dishonesty,  risky  speculations,  participation  in  the 
promotion  of  companies  whose  purpose  and  repu- 
tation is  not  irreproachable,  also  all  efforts  to 
obtain  wealth  by  means  not  clearly  above  all  criti- 
cism, these  must  the  officer  hold  far  from  him.  The 
more  wealth  and  luxury  increase  elsewhere,  the 
more  serious  does  the  officer's  duty  become ;  never 
to  forget  that  it  is  not  material  possessions  which 
have  given  him  and  will  continue  to  give  him  his 
high  and  honored  place  in  the  state  and  in  society. 
Not  only  is  his  fitness  injured  by  an  effeminate 
mode  of  life,  but  his  whole  standing  will  be  endan- 
gered by  the  struggle  after  wealth  and  luxury." 


170  THE    GERMANS 

Such  is  the  Emperor's  grave  warning,  and  it  has 
proved  more  than  a  warning.  Luxury,  ostentation, 
all  forms  of  dissipation,  have  been  put  down  with 
an  iron  hand,  and  the  offcers'  Corps  is  a  model  for 
the  nation  and  the  world  in  the  stern  fulfilment  of 
its  hard  duty,  in  its  self-sacrifice,  its  self-control,  its 
self-abnegation.  The  officer  literally  dedicates  his 
whole  life  to  his  profession.  He  may  not  even 
marry  without  the  Emperor's  consent,  and  that  can 
not  be  obtained  until  he  has  proved  that  his  future 
wife  brings  with  her  a  good  name  and  a  spotless 
reputation,  and  that  he  has  sufficient  wealth  to  keep 
her  as  his  position  demands. 

And  the  return  for  this  absolute  surrender — the 
reward?  Material  reward  there  is  none;  there  is 
only  this,  that  the  officer  is  looked  upon  and  treated 
as  a  man  apart,  as  the  bearer  and  protector  of  the 
national  honor,  as  a  great  high  priest  whose  vest- 
ment is  the  symbol  of  the  noblest  human  calling. 
Accustom  yourself  to  this  standpoint,  and  you  will 
understand  why  it  is  expressly  commanded  that  an 
officer  shall  only  associate  in  the  best  society,  that 
he  must  keep  himself  clean  from  all  possible  con- 
tamination, and  that  should  he  become  contam- 
inated he  must  be  prepared  to  pay  for  the  injury 
done  to  his  calling  with  his  life.    He  is  the  Levite 


THE    COAT   OF    MANY   COLORS      171 

of  the  nation,  and  in  return  for  his  renunciations  he 
is  granted  certain  privileges.  The  first  and  great- 
est of  these,  is  his  position  in  society.  The  officer 
has  the  entree  into  every  social  circle  no  matter 
how  exalted;  he  is  the  comrade  of  his  Emperor,  he 
is  respected  by  all  classes  save  those  which  regard 
national  honor  as  of  no  account.  From  the  moment 
that  Herr  Schmidt  dons  the  King's  coat  his  whole 
position  in  the  world  changes — he  has  become 
somebody,  he  can  no  longer  be  ignored.  This  im- 
mense respect  which  is  shown  to  the  uniform  would 
be  a  danger  if  the  man  who  wore  it  were  unworthy 
of  respect,  but  in  truth  the  veneration  with  which 
the  officer  is  treated  is  by  no  means  blind,  and  has 
not  its  source  in  a  morbid  worship  of  militarism. 
It  is  because  the  average  German  officer  is  a  man  of 
high  principles,  clean  living,  and  clean  thinking 
that  the  uniform  has  come  to  be  looked  upon  as  a 
guarantee,  a  hall-mark.  There  is,  as  in  everything, 
the  shadowy  side.  There  are  men  who  enter  the 
army  simply  to  obtain  the  position  it  gives,  though 
that  type  of  soldier  soon  wearies  of  the  privilege 
when  he  finds  at  what  cost  it  must  be  bought;  there 
are  youngsters  enough  who  give  themselves  great 
airs  over  their  civilian  brothers.  In  a  German 
Witzblatt  I  remember  seeing  a  picture  of  a  Prus- 


172  THE    GERMANS 

sian  lieutenant  standing  at  the  foot  of  Mont  Blanc, 
stroking  the  vestige  of  a  moustache,  and  contem- 
plating the  mighty  mountain  with  a  haughty  eye. 

"Donnerwetter!  how  ridiculously  small  a  civ- 
ilian must  feel!"  is  his  only  remark,  and  there  is 
enough  truth  in  the  jest  to  make  one  laugh  heartily. 
But  his  arrogance  is  simply  a  malady  of  youth,  and 
disappears  with  the  lieutenant's  epaulettes.  On  the 
whole  one  is  surprised  at  the  simplicity  and  unaf- 
fectedness  of  the  average  German  officer.  The 
lieutenant  may  seem  a  trifle  conceited  when  you 
observe  him  on  the  street — and,  indeed,  show  me 
the  young  man  who  would  not  feel  a  twinge  of  self- 
satisfaction  when  his  uniform  is  so  new  and  fits  his 
slight  figure  to  perfection? — but  once  you  get  to 
know  him  this  impression  vanishes.  He  is  the 
cavalier  par  excellence,  unfailing  in  his  courtly 
politeness,  but  neither  stiff  nor  pretentious. 

As  I  write  a  picture  arises  out  of  my  many  mem- 
ories of  a  little  dance  we  gave  in  the  course  of  this 
winter.  There  were  six  or  seven  lieutenants  from 
the  same  regiment  present — not  boys  by  any  means, 
most  of  them  being  well  over  twenty-five — and  in 
an  interval  they  were  set  down  to  a  competition  in 
— hat  trimming!  The  results  after  the  alotted  ten 
minutes  were  quite  remarkable;  a  straw  toque  with 


THE    COAT   OF    MANY    COLORS      173 

a  green  veil  behind  ("to  keep  off  sunstroke,"  as 
the  originator  proudly  explained  to  the  mystified 
judge),  pink  and  yellow  roses  clustered  in  front, 
and  a  blue  ribbon  was  one  of  the  most  effective  ef- 
forts. But  the  picture  of  a  six-foot,  broad-shoul- 
dered officer  huddled  together  in  a  remote  corner 
struggling  with  a  needle  and  cotton  and  refractory 
ribbons  can  still  bring  tears  of  laughter  to  my  eyes. 
Afterward  they  played  musical-chairs  and  the 
Queen  of  Sheba  with  the  energy  and  enthusiasm  of 
school-boys.  I  hasten  to  tender  my  apologies ;  I  am 
sure  no  self-respecting  school-boy  would  have  low- 
ered himself  sufficiently  to  have  indulged  in  the 
childish  amusements  of  these  grown  men,  one  of 
them  already  burdened  with  the  responsibilities  of 
an  adjutancy.  I  must  add,  however,  that  had  a  num- 
ber of  civilians  been  present  they  would  scarcely 
have  acted  as  they  did;  it  was  only  because  they 
were  entre  eux  that  they  felt  they  could  relax  from 
the  dignity  which  their  uniform  requires  of  them  in 
public  life. 

Such,  then,  is  the  arrogant,  Schwert-rasselender 
Prussian  officer;  let  us  now  pass  on  to -the  great 
force  at  whose  head  he  stands,  and  consider  what 
the  units  are  worth  and  how  it  fares  with  them.  I 
'have  seen  the  German  soldier  in  a  good  many  dif- 


174  THE    GERMANS 

f erent  aspects.  I  have  seen  him  assisting  the  police 
against  an  excited  mob ;  I  have  seen  him  helping 
our  elderly  Karlsruhe  firemen  in  the  midst  of  a  big 
conflagration.  I  have  seen  him  dancing  with  his 
Schatz  at  the  Kaiser  Ball;  I  have  seen  him  in  his 
very  best  at  the  Kaiser  Parade  and  at  his  very  best 
in  the  stress  of  the  manceuvers,  and  I  flatter  my- 
self that  I  know  him  very  fairly.  He  is  not  an  ele- 
gant individual;  in  South  Germany,  where  the 
whole  race  is  smaller,  he  is  of  middle  height,  thick- 
set, somewhat  clumsy  of  build,  the  latter  feature 
emphasized  by  his  uniform,  which,  though  excel- 
lent in  material,  fits  a  peu  pres  only.  But  he  is  the 
picture  of  health  and  sturdy  strength. 

As  you  watch  the  Grenadiers  on  Sunday  march- 
ing to  the  military  church,  you  are  struck  less  by  the 
individual  smartness  than  by  the  respectability,  the 
honesty  and  orderliness  of  character,  which  each 
weather-beaten  young  face  expresses.  You  feel  that 
these  are  not  show  soldiers,  they  are  not  paraded 
through  the  town  as  a  sort  of  national  advertise- 
ment; they  are  the  sturdy  bulwark  of  their  country, 
the  best  elements  which  the  people  can  produce, 
being  trained  not  only  to  fight,  but  to  live  a  healthy, 
decent  life.  And  as  they  look  so  they  are.  I  remem- 
ber last  summer  reading  an  account  of  the  German 


THE   COAT  OF  MANY   COLORS     175 

manoeuvers,  in  which  the  English  writer  expressed 
his  admiration  for  the  German  soldier's  powers  of 
endurance  and,  above  all,  of  his  sobriety  and  order- 
liness not  only  on  duty  but  in  his  amusements.  He 
mentioned  that  during  the  whole  time  he  had  been 
with  the  troops  he  had  not  seen  one  drunken  or 
disorderly  soldier.  I  was  gratified  to  find  my 
own  experience  thus  endorsed  by  one  of  my  own 
countrymen. 

It  happened  that  in  that  same  summer  the 
Kaiser  Parade  took  place  in  our  neighborhood,  so 
that  a  whole  Army  Corps — thirty-five  thousand 
men — were  stationed  in  and  about  Karlsruhe.  Dj^r- 
ing  the  three  days  in  which  we  were  thus  inundated, 
the  town,  though  alive  with  different  uniforms,  was 
absolutely  quiet  and  orderly.  There  were  no  cases 
of  drunkenness  or  rowdiness — a  church  festival 
could  not  have  been  more  sober.  As  to  the  parade 
itself,  it  was  a  sight  which  could  not  but  excite  even 
the  most  critical  foreigner  to  unbounded  admira- 
tion. It  was  not  the  mere  incident  of  the  march 
past — most  armies  can  manage  that  much — but  it 
was  the  perfect  discipline,  the  good-humor  of  the 
troops,  their  whole-hearted  participation  in  this 
great  event,  which  was  like  a  breath  of  fresh  clean 
air.    One  could  see  as  they  tramped  past  our  car- 


176  THE    GERMANS 

riage  on  the  way  to  their  assigned  positions  on  the 
field,  that  each  one  of  them  was  impressed  with  his 
own  importance,  his  own  power  to  help  his  su- 
periors to  the  Emperor's  praise.  And  surely  even 
the  Emperor — severe  critic  though  he  is  supposed 
to  be — must  have  been  well  satisfied  on  that  day. 

There  was  not  a  hitch,  not  a  fault,  not  an  instant's 
confusion,  each  man  moving  as  though  he  were  the 
incorporate  part  of  his  neighbor;  an  immense  piece 
of  machinery  seemed  to  come  to  life  at  a  word,  a 
signal.  ^'Machinery!"  says  the  foreign  critic  with 
a  self-satisfied  shake  of  the  head.  "Yes,  that  typi- 
fies the  German  soldier — a  piece  of  machinery 
without  initiative."  Possibly  the  critic  is  right.  I 
do  not  think  either  that  if  the  German  soldier  were 
left  to  his  own  devices  that  he  would  perform  any 
feats  of  strategy — it  is  not  expected  of  him.  The 
officers  are  the  brains  and  the  soldiers  are  the  body, 
and  it  is  not  desirable  that  either  should  attempt  the 
work  of  the  other.  Absolute  blind  obedience  and 
discipline  is  the  first  and  greatest  virtue  of  the  Ger- 
man soldier,  and  the  Franco-Prussian  war  proved 
that  it  was  worth  more  than  the  individual  intelli- 
gence of  the  Frenchman. 

As  to  the  methods  by  which  the  German  is 
trained  to  this  state  of  perfection,  I  can  quite  well 


THE   COAT  OF  MANY  COLORS     177 

believe  it  when  I  am  told  that  the  two  years  which 
the  common  man  spends  with  the  troops  are  the 
happiest  and  healthiest  in  his  life.  Certainly  at  no 
other  time  is  he  so  well  clothed,  well  fed,  and  well 
looked  after.  I  am  speaking  now  of  the  ordinary 
private — "Freiwilliger."  The  Einjahriger,  that  is 
to  say  the  educated  man  who  has  passed  a  certain 
examination  and  need  only  serve  one  year,  has  no 
doubt  his  bad  moments.  It  is  without  doubt  an  ex- 
cellent discipline,  but  it  can  not  be  always  agreeable 
to  share  the  life,  even  to  the  sleeping  quarters,  of 
the  common  soldier,  and  to  be  helpless  before  the 
abuse  of  the  under-ofEcer,  who  not  seldom  takes  a 
spiteful  delight  in  exercising  his  temporary  author- 
ity over  his  social  superior.  'Words,  not  deeds," 
however,  is  the  extent  of  the  bullying  to  which  the 
private  as  well  as  the  Einjahriger  has  to  submit. 
The  under-officer  may  pour  out  his  whole  vocab- 
ulary over  the  head  of  the  raw,  and  usually  very 
stupid,  recruit,  but  the  brutality  with  which  the 
German  soldier  is  supposed  to  be  treated  is  a  mere 
fable.  The  few  cases  of  misused  authority  are  al- 
ways severely  punished,  and  are  not  more  fre- 
quent than  in  any  other  branch  of  life.  The  ofEcer 
himself  is  on  excellent  terms  with  his  men.  The 
Burschen  (orderlies)  are  usually  devoted  to  their 


178  THE    GERMANS 

superiors  and  their  families,  whom  they  serve  in 
every  conceivable  capacity  from  butler  to  nurse- 
maid. 

At  no  time  can  one  judge  so  well  of  the  rela- 
tions between  officers  and  men  as  at  the  Kaiser  Ball, 
where  the  soldier  plays  the  leading  part.  That  he 
is  not  a  broken-spirited,  driven,  bullied  victim  of 
militarism  is  obvious.  At  the  opening  of  the  pro- 
ceedings a  military  play  is  given  in  which  he 
glories  in  the  part  of  the  officer,  taking  off  the  char- 
acteristics and  eccentricities  of  some  particular 
personage,  to  the  delight  of  the  officer's  Corps,  even 
of  the  object  himself.  Afterward  comes  the  dan- 
cing. Each  soldier  may  bring  one  ^^lady"  friend, 
who  is  regaled  with  sausage  and  beer  free  of 
charge.  Her  cavalier's  first  act  is  to  bring  her  up 
to  his  favorite  lieutenant,  and,  at  attention,  with  a 
broad  grin  on  his  healthy,  red  face,  ask,  "Ob  der 
Herr  Lieutenant  nicht  mit  der  Meinen  tanzen 
nochte?"  ("If  the  Herr  Lieutenant  would  not  like 
to  dance  with  his  girl?")  And  the  lieutenant 
waltzes  off  with  the  blushing  little  housemaid, 
whilst  the  soldier,  who  would  not  have  parted  with 
her  to  an  equal  for  all  the  riches  in  the  world, 
stands  aside  ready  to  burst  with  pride  and  delight. 
Afterward  the  lieutenants  dance  with  all  the  lead- 


THE   COAT  OF  MANY  COLORS     179 

ing  ladies  in  turn,  the  under-officers'  wives  and  so 
on,  and  woe  to  him  who  through  an  oversight 
misses  out  one  of  the  fair  and  jealous  partners! 
When  this  social  duty  is  over  the  officers  disappear, 
and  the  under-officers  advance  to  the  position  of 
the  "great  men"  of  the  evening. 

I  have  had  sufficient  opportunity  to  study  the 
relations  between  the  private  and  the  under-officer, 
not  only  at  the  Kaiser  Ball,  but  on  the  exercising 
ground  and  in  the  bivouac,  and  the  tone  has  always 
seemed  to  be  one  of  open  good-comradeship.  I  re- 
member after  the  Kaiser  Parade  we  were  allowed 
to  wander  through  the  camp  of  a  regiment  on  its 
way  back  to  the  garrison.  Zeppelin  III  was  ex- 
pected every  minute,  and  the  soldiers  were  sitting 
and  lying  in  little  groups  singing  their  songs,  and 
keeping  a  sharp  look-out  in  the  direction  from 
whence  the  airship  was  expected  to  appear.  The 
under-officers  mingled  with  the  men,  joined  in  the 
singing,  exchanged  jokes,  drank  with  them,  and  it 
was  obvious  that  dislike  or  fear  were  out  of  the 
question.  No  doubt  the  under-officer  is  something 
of  a  martinet  in  work  time,  and  a  fine  stickler  for 
exactitude,  but  I  do  not  fancy  that  the  ordinary 
German  soldier  feels  himself  particularly  injured 
when  he  is  told  after  the  twentieth  blunder  that  he 


i8o  THE    GERMANS 

is  a  sheep's  head,  an  imbecile,  an  idiot,  a  donkey, 
etc.  Perhaps  he  thinks  so  himself.  This  abuse  is 
just  what  he  understands,  and  it  must  be  said  that 
in  his  turn  the  under-ofBcer  gets  his  share — in  fact, 
the  criticism  goes  down  the  scale,  adapting  itself  to 
the  rank  of  the  criticized  with  amusing  exactness. 
At  a  manoeuver  a  regiment  fails  to  distinguish  it- 
self— the  general  calls  the  colonel  to  him — 

"Lieber  Kamarad,  a  little  more  smartness  is  nec- 
essary— the  men  are  too  slow.  I  should  be  grateful 
if  you  would  see  your  way  to  effecting  an  improve- 
ment." 

They  shake  hands.  The  colonel  calls  the  major 
to  him — 

"Herr  Major,  his  Excellency  has  expressed  his 
dissatisfaction  over  the  conduct  of  the  troops — the 
wretched  crawling  and  slovenliness  particularly 
attracted  his  notice.  I  trust  you  will  assist  me  in 
correcting  these  failings." 

The  major  salutes  and  calls  the  captains  to  him — 

"Meine  Herrn!  the  colonel  is  furious  with  the 
disgraceful  management  of  the  men.  It  is  unheard 
of — I  must  request  you  both  by  word  and  example 
to  bring  the  regiment  back  to  its  old  smartness. 
This  sort  of  thing  can  not  go  on.  It  is  the  duty  of 
the  younger  officers,"  etc.,  etc. 


CO^mCHT,  BV  UNDERWOOD  <1  UNDERWOOD, 


Island   fortress   in  the   Rhine 


THE   COAT  OF   MANY   COLORS     i8i 

The  captains  to  the  lieutenants — 

"The  colonel  is  beside  himself  about  yesterday; 
never  saw  such  a  wretched  performance  in  his  life. 
The  leading  and  behavior  of  the  men  was  beneath 
all  criticism.  There  must  be  an  improvement  in 
these  matters.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  lieutenant,"  etc., 
etc. 

The  lieutenants  to  the  under-officers — 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  men?  Miserable 
performance!  Can't  you  bring  them  up  to  the 
mark  better  than  that?  Upon  my  word,  I'm 
ashamed  of  the  lot  of  you,  and  if  there  isn't  a 
change  for  the  better  in  less  than  no  time — " 

Under-ofBcers  to  their  men — 

"You  idiots,  you  dolts,  you  sheep's  head,  you — " 

But  the  English  language  can  not  keep  pace  with 
the  under-officers'  vocabulary,  which  is  rich  and 
lurid.  However,  the  storm  blows  over  at  last,  and 
nobody's  feelings  are  wounded  beyond  healing. 

That  the  two  years  with  the  troops  is  beneficial 
for  the  common  man  is  undeniable.  At  the  begin- 
ning of  the  military  year  you  can  often  see  a  crowd 
of  sloppy,  underfed,  bow-legged,  round-shoul- 
dered youths  being  marched  off  from  the  station  by 
an  under-officer,  and  a  few  months  later  you  see  the 
same  party  in  uniform,  straight  built,  well  fed, 


i82  THE    GERMANS 

healthy,  respectable-looking  fellows,  who  are  be- 
ing taught  to  live  morally  and  physically  a  decent, 
useful  life.  If  eternal  peace  were  signed  to-mor- 
row by  all  the  nations,  and  Germany's  army  had  to 
disband,  it  would  be  a  national  disaster — the  finest 
school  in  the  country  would  be  closed. 

As  to  the  so-called  militarism  with  which  Ger- 
many is  supposed  to  be  inflicted,  I  can  only  say  that 
in  no  other  country  are  military  matters  less 
fussed  and  worried  over.  Everybody  who  can 
serves  his  time — it  is  regarded  as  something  as 
natural  as  daily  food — and  outside  the  officers  and 
under-officers  there  is  no  professional  army.  There 
are  no  hired  soldiers;  each  citizen  brings  a  short 
time  out  of  his  life  and  sacrifices  it  to  his  country, 
and  receives  in  return  a  physical  and  moral  train- 
ing which  should  fit  him  all  the  better  for  a  citi- 
zen's career.  This  seems  to  me  no  more  militarism 
than  compulsory  education.  In  England  no  one 
seems  to  think  it  an  encroachment  on  the  public 
liberty  to  force  children  up  to  a  certain  age  to 
learn;  after  that — in  the  most  important  years  of 
their  life — they  are  allowed  to  run  wild,  and  the 
state  washes  its  hands  of  them.  In  Germany  the 
state  takes  up  the  threads  of  its  responsibility  a  sec- 
ond time,  and,  having  trained  the  child,  proceeds  to 


THE   COAT  OF  MANY  COLORS     183 

train  the  man.  If  in  this  training  it  recompenses 
itself  by  building  up  an  overwhelming  force  with 
which  to  protect  itself,  it  need  not,  on  that  account, 
be  accused  of  undue  militarism.  It  can  only  be 
congratulated  on  having  successfully  killed  two 
birds  with  one  stone. 

We  have  now  considered  the  units  which  go  to 
make  up  the  Emperor's  army.  In  conclusion  I  can 
only  add  that  no  statistics  can  reveal  its  full 
strength  and  striking  power.  The  German  army  is 
the  result  of  a  steady  and  uninterrupted  develop- 
ment. It  has  not  been  and  can  not  be  checked  by 
changes  of  government;  it  has  not  been  subjected  to 
the  eccentricities  and  fads  of  varying  civilian  mud- 
dlers. It  has  its  fixed  and  tested  system  on  which 
it  has  been  built  up  and  on  which  it  continues  to 
grow.  Unlike  the  French  army  of  1870,  and  un- 
like many  European  armies  of  to-day,  its  resources 
are  not  only  on  paper — they  actually  exist.  On  the 
first  of  May  each  year  the  great  mobilization  plans 
are  given  out,  and  every  single  department  is  tested 
to  prove  its  absolute  readiness  and  efficiency.  There 
are  no  ^'paper"  horses,  "paper"  ammunition,  "pa- 
per" uniforms,  and — worst  of  all — "paper"  men. 
Everything  is  there,  "to  the  last  button  on  the 
gaiter,"  as  an  officer  proudly  boasted  to  me:  and  if 


i84  THE    GERMANS 

war  were  declared  with  an  hour's  notice  the  Em- 
peror would  only  have  to  give  the  signal,  and  in  an 
instant  the  whole  immense  machinery  would  be  in 
movement.  Every  officer  has  his  sealed  orders,  and 
every  detail  is  arranged,  even  to  the  transport  trains 
and  the  hours  at  which  they  leave  for  the  different 
frontiers. 

The  Germans  boast  that  their  navy  is  governed 
by  the  same  complete  readiness  and  efficiency,  and 
that  the  health  and  "moral"  of  their  soldiers  and 
sailors  have  no  equivalent  in  the  world.  Most  na- 
tions claim  this  superiority,  but  what  I  have  seen 
leads  me  to  the  conclusion  that  the  German  has 
every  right  to  his  pride  and  every  reason  to  look 
upon  his  army  as  "model,"  and  upon  his  navy  as  a 
force  of  growing  and  incalculable  possibilities. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  GERMAN  WOMAN 

"Kinder,  Kirche,  und  Kiiche,"  is  supposed  to  be 
the  adage  of  the  German  woman.  I  do  not  know 
who  invented  it,  but  I  should  like  to  ask  that  person 
how  he  came  to  add  "Kirche"  to  the  list,  or  if  it 
was  only  for  the  sake  of  the  alliteration.  Children 
and  the  kitchen — yes,  perhaps — but  church?  With 
the  adage  clearly  printed  in  my  mind,  I  have  been 
constantly  on  the  lookout  for  some  proof  of  its 
veracity,  but  hitherto  have  found  none.  Perhaps 
it  is  a  saying  which,  like  so  many  others,  belongs  to 
a  time  long  past,  and  has  been  dragged  on  into  the 
present  without  anybody  taking  the  trouble  to  con- 
sider whether  it  is  still  true.  Or  perhaps  it  refers 
to  the  sterner  northern  woman,  who  takes  all  her 
duties  with  a  greater  earnestness,  though  even  this 
latter  theory  seems  to  me  unlikely.  For  the  German 
lady — according  to  my  observations — worries  less 
about  church  than  any  other  lady  in  the  world. 
That  is  not  to  say  that  she  is  irreligious — quite  the 

185 


i86  THE    GERMANS 

contrary;  but  if  she  attends  morning  service  once  a 
week  for  an  hour,  she  considers  herself  a  tremen- 
dous churchgoer;  and  if  she  assists  in  the  choir, 
which  sings  on  great  occasions,  she  is  looked  upon 
as  a  person  of  extreme  piety  and  devotion.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  are  in  Karlsruhe  hundreds  of 
women — especially  of  the  better  class — ^who  go  to 
church  occasionally,  sometimes  only  at  Christmas 
and  Easter,  and  who  are  looked  \\pon  as  perfectly 
respectable  Christian  people.  They  do  their  duty 
by  the  church,  they  pay  their  taxes,  they  send  the 
clergyman  food  and  clothes  for  his  charities,  they 
are  on  bowing,  and  perhaps  on  calling  terms  with 
him  as  a  private  individual,  but  he  plays  no  active 
part  in  their  lives,  and  church  decorations,  parish 
work,  and  all  the  small  practical  duties  with  which 
an  Englishwoman  of  leisure  loves  to  load  herself, 
are  practically  unknown.  I  say  "practically"  for 
safety's  sake,  for  it  is  just  possible  that  in  some 
remote  corner  of  Karlsruhe  some  busy  little  body  is 
endeavoring  to  become  the  Pfarrer's  right  hand, 
but  I  have  not  yet  met  her,  and  her  existence  is  a 
pure  surmise. 

It  is  quite  true  that  the  churches  are  always  over- 
crowded, and  by  far  the  greater  part  with  women, 
but  it  is  a  noted  fact  that  Karlsruhe  is  too  poorly 


THE    GERMAN   WOMAN  187 

provided  in  this  respect,  and  in  other  towns,  Frank- 
furt and  Mannheim  for  instance,  the  case  is  very 
different.  Of  couse  I  am  speaking  of  the  Protestant 
German  woman;  the  Catholic  is  compelled  by  her 
religion  to  keep  to  a  more  frequent  attendance.  The 
German  State  Church  is  broad  in  the  broadest 
sense,  and  allows  its  children  to  do  and  think  very 
much  what  they  like.     Hence,  if  Frau  Schmidt 
does  not  go  to  church  every  Sunday  morning,  the 
fact  is  not  made  the  subject  of  a  nine  days'  scandal, 
nor  does  the  clergyman  come  round  to  inquire  the 
reason  of  her  non-attendance.    As  in  everything,  so 
in  the  matter  of  religion,  the  German  refuses  to  ac- 
cept the  great  maxim  that  you  must  always  judge 
by  appearances,   and   Frau   Schmidt's   neighbors 
would  no  more  think  of  condemning  her  morality 
on  the  strength  of  her  irregular  churchgoing  than 
they  would  think  of  questioning  her  position  in 
society  on  the  strength  of  her  shabby  and  old-fash- 
ioned clothes.     On  the  whole,  the  chief  church- 
goers are  servants,  young  girls,  and  old  women.    I 
strongly  suspect  the  girls  of  going  because  they 
must,  and  the  old  women  of  going  because  it  af- 
fords such  an  excellent  opportunity  to  gossip  before 
the  service  begins,  but  I  may  be  doing  both  a  glar- 
ing injustice,  and  will  not  insist  upon  the  point. 


i88  THE    GERMANS 

Society  women  are  rarely,  if  ever,  seen,  unless 
they  come  with  the  Court  as  a  matter  of  duty.  The 
truth  is  that  the  main  reason  which  brings  most  so- 
ciety women  to  church  does  not  exist  in  this  part  of 
the  world.  Nobody  comes  to  show  off  their  fine 
feathers.  To  go  into  a  west-end  church  here  is  to 
receive  an  impression  of  dowdy  respectability,  and 
if  Mrs.  Jones  with  a  bevy  of  friends  in  Sunday  furs 
and  furbelows  were  to  sail  magnificently  down  the 
aisle,  I  think  they  would  cause  something  like  a 
panic.  In  my  mind's  eye  I  can  see  a  dozen  heads 
wagged  in  doubt  and  alarm.  "Das  ist  eine  eigen- 
tiimliche  Gesellschaft!"  the  usual  congregation 
would  murmur  at  the  bottom  of  its  sober  soul, 
thereby  inferring  that  Mrs.  Jones  and  her  fashion- 
able party  were  distinctly  "shady"  characters. 
Thus  the  woman  who  lives  for  clothes — if  she  exists 
in  Germany — finds  no  attraction  in  churchgoing, 
and  the  rest  do  just  what  they  like,  unbound  by  the 
mighty  law  of  custom,  and  unthreatened  by  the  ter- 
rors of  parish  and  neighborly  criticism. 

So  much  for  the  "Kirche"  part  of  the  adage, 
which — as  I  have  said  at  the  beginning  of  the  chap- 
ter— I  much  suspect  of  having  been  added  on  be- 
cause it  begins  with  "k"  and  harmonizes  agreeably 
with  "Kinder."     The  other  two  clauses  require 


THE   GERMAN   WOMAN  189 

more  serious  consideration  because  they  do  still 
play  a  very  important  part  in  the  German  woman's 
life — a  very  important  part,  but  by  no  means  an 
exclusive  one.  All  German  girls  are  brought  up 
with  the  idea  that  they  will  in  all  probability  get 
married,  or,  at  any  rate,  that  it  will  be  entirely  their 
own  fault  if  they  do  not.  The  average  German  is 
a  decidedly  family  man,  and  is  thankful  if  he  can 
get  a  wife  at  all,  so  that  a  girl  must  be  a  pauper  and 
a  deformity  combined  not  to  be  able  to  marry  if 
she  wants  to.  As  a  rule  she  still  "wants,"  and,  as  a 
rule,  she  marries  very  early  in  life.  It  is  quite 
usual  for  her  to  enter  into  society  at  seventeen  and 
be  married  at  eighteen,  and  a  girl  of  twenty-five 
who  has  not  yet  settled  down  is  looked  upon  in  the 
light  of  a  confirmed  spinster.  There  was  a  time 
when  her  condition  would  have  been  regarded  by 
her  friends  with  pity  and  a  mild  disparagement — 
the  unmarried  woman  was  in  fact  a  woman  who 
had  completely  failed  in  her  life's  vocation — but, 
nowadays  public  opinion  is  beginning  to  turn.  It  is 
recognized  by  a  certain  party  of  both  sexes  that  a 
woman  can  have  another  reason  for  her  existence 
besides  marriage,  and  that  it  can  be  an  equally  good 
reason.  I  know  quite  a  number  of  girls  who  are 
studying  for  some  profession,  and  who  frankly  ad- 


190  THE    GERMANS 

mit  that  their  lives  are  so  interesting,  their  work  so 
absorbing,  that  they  do  not  care  whether  they  get 
married  or  not,  and  are  entirely  opposed  to  the 
idea  of  marriage  as  the  goal  of  a  woman's  exist- 
ence. "If  the  right  man  comes,  well  and  good 
— if  not,  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  as  I  am,"  is  their 
verdict. 

These  are  the  talented  people,  consequently  in 
the  minority,  and  the  class  of  girl  who,  without 
talent,  is  yet  striving  for  some  market  for  her 
energy,  is  still  too  small  to  be  reckoned  with  in 
Germany.  Those  who  have  no  particular  bent 
accept  marriage  as  the  one  profession  open  to  them. 
Thus  German  women  can  be  divided  into  two 
groups — those  who  are  blessed  with  talent  and  a 
profession,  and  those  who  have  neither  and  marry. 
The  latter,  the  majority,  should  be  considered  first, 
as  it  is  to  them  that  the  adage,  "Kinder,  Kirche,  und 
Kiiche,"  is  applied,  and  it  is  of  them  that  the  for- 
eigner immediately  thinks  when  he  is  asked  to  de- 
scribe the  German  woman.  I  know  so  well  the 
picture  that  arises  before  his  mind's  eye — a  big, 
portly  woman,  very  fat,  very  "comfortable,"  with 
red  cheeks,  fair  hair — ^very  badly  done — and  enough 
intelligence  to  look  after  the  kitchen  and  keep  the 
children  in  order.     She  is  her  husband's  unpaid 


THE    GERMAN   WOMAN  191 

housekeeper,  she  sees  to  his  dinner,  mends  his 
clothes,  does  up  his  boots  even  in  the  street  (I  have 
heard  this  statement  made  in  all  seriousness!),  and 
generally  does  her  best  to  pay  for  the  honor  he  has 
done  her  in  making  her  his  wife.  This  picture  re- 
minds me  very  much  of  the  check-suited  horror 
which  I  have  already  described  as  the  type  of  Eng- 
lishman which  the  foreigner  accepts  as  typical. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  average  German 
woman  of  the  educated  class  is  not  a  lovely  or  ele- 
gant person.  In  Karlsruhe,  for  instance,  there  are 
pretty  children  by  the  dozens,  and  the  most  beauti- 
ful old  women  I  have  ever  seen,  but  a  beautiful 
young  woman  is  a  rarity.  The  first  involuntary 
question  of  an  observant  stranger  is  always,  "Where 
do  all  the  pretty  children  go  to,  and  where  do  all 
the  charming  old  ladies  come  from?" — a  question 
not  hard  to  answer.  The  children  turn  into  women 
with  good,  even  nobly  cut  features,  exceptionally 
fine  eyes,  but — neglected  complexions  and  neg- 
lected figures,  faults  which,  in  the  prime  of  life, 
count  for  more  than  anything.  Later  on,  the  old 
lady  appears  with  her  fine  features  and  eyes-,  and  no 
one  notices  the  defects  which  spoilt  the  woman. 

The  German  woman's  unattractiveness  is,  there- 
fore, entirely  her  own  fault.    Her  lack  of  smartness 


192  THE    GERMANS 

in  dress,  and  her  indifference  to  physical  culture, 
is  in  fact  her  curse.    As  regards  dress,  she  is  no- 
where very  brilliant,  and  in  Karlsruhe,  where  the 
"Fashion"  is  always  so  unfashionable  that  a  fem- 
inine stranger  must  feel  quite  rejuvenated  when  she 
walks  through  the  streets,  she  is  positively  dowdy. 
She  seems  born  without  any  sort  of  taste  where 
dress  is  concerned.     Poverty  can  not  excuse  her; 
even  when  she  has  two  respectable  coats  and  skirts, 
she  ruins  both  by  wearing  the  coat  of  one  with  the 
skirt  of  another,  and  she  is,  moreover,  capable  of 
spending  quite  large  sums  on  an  atrocity  which  in 
England  would  stamp  her  at  once  as  "impossible." 
It  is  only  necessary  to  try  to  shop  in  Karlsruhe  to 
understand  the  full  enormity  of  the  case.    Suppose 
that  a  middle-class  Englishwoman  with  moderate 
means  wishes  to  buy  herself  a  blouse.    She  can  not 
afford  to  go  to  the  very  highest  prices,  and  when 
she  tries  to  obtain  what  she  wants  with  moderate 
prices,  she  finds  that  she  has  no  choice — unless  it 
is  a  choice  to  have  to  decide  between  one  form  of 
ugliness  and  another.    If  she  explains  to  the  shop- 
man what  she  wants,  he  shrugs  his  shoulders  re- 
gretfully: "We  don't  keep  it — our  customers  don't 
care  for  it.    But  this  is  much  prettier— every  one  is 
wearing  it."     And  he  produces  an  article  which 


THE   GERMAN   WOMAN  193 

sends  the  Englishwoman  away  wondering  how  it  is 
possible  that  a  people  so  highly  sensitive  to  beauty 
in  all  other  forms  can  tolerate  such  eyesores  in  their 
every-day  life.  For  the  shopman  is  perfectly  right. 
''It"  is  worn  by  everybody — that  is  to  say,  every- 
body of  the  middle  class.  Hideous  plaid  blouses, 
red,  blue,  and  green,  like  traveling-rugs,  muddy 
brown  coats  and  skirts  of  vile  cut,  much-bebraided 
black  sack  coats,  square-toed  boots,  nondescript 
hats  which  match  every  dress  equally  badly,  highly 
colored  kid  gloves  (when  they  are  not  cotton) ,  in 
summer,  cut-out  blouses,  shoes  of  the  most  atrocious 
colors  under  the  sun,  and  last  and  worst  of  all — Re- 
form ! 

What  evil  genius  was  it,  I  wonder,  that  hit 
on  the  German  woman's  besetting  weakness,  and 
discovered  a  mode  of  attire  which  gives  it  full  play 
and  encourages  it  with  the  excuse  of  "health,"  "hy- 
giene," and  other  nonsense  of  the  same  sort?  To  let 
herself  go,  to  take  things  easy,  to  be  as  comfortable 
as  possible — that  is  the  questionable  physical  ideal 
toward  which  the  German  woman  tends.  Conse- 
quently, a  dress  cut  like  a  sack,  without  collar,  with- 
out waist,  without  shape,  which  she  can  slip  in  and 
out  of  with  a  minimum  amount  of  exertion  and 
trouble,  appeals  tremendously  to  her.     She  talks 


194  THE    GERMANS 

a  great  deal  about  her  health  and  so  on,  and  grows 
stout,  clumsy,  pasty,  sloppy,  in  fact  everything  that 
is  the  reverse  of  healthy.  The  health  part  of  the 
matter  has  simply  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Reform, 
as  it  is  called,  is  comfortable,  and  what  does  it  mat- 
ter if,  at  the  age\  of  thirty,  you  look  like  an  old 
washerwoman,  so  long  as  you  are  comfortable? 

A  lady  artist  once  said  that  Reform  was  beautiful, 
Grecian,  classic,  and  a  good  many  other  things  be- 
sides, which  I  have  not  yet  had  the  pleasure  of  ob- 
serving. I  have  only  seen  objects  which  were  awful 
— I  mean  awful  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  awe- 
inspiringly  terrible.  That  a  woman  can  consent  to 
make  such  an  object  of  herself  proves  that  as  far  as 
dress  is  concerned  she  is  either  totally  indifferent  or 
totally  tasteless.  In  the  German  woman's  case  it  is 
a  little  of  both.  She  does  not  care  very  much  what 
she  looks  like,  and  consequently  she  never  tries  to 
learn  from  other  people,  or  to  improve  her  taste. 
She  is  quite  capable  of  spending  her  days  in  the 
same  dress  if  it  would  only  last  out  long  enough. 
This  brings  me  back  to  my  first  admission  that  she 
is  far  from  smart,  that  she  is  in  fact  dowdy,  and  has 
never  really  been  anything  else  at  any  time  of  her 
life.  The  German  Backfisch — the  equivalent  to 
our  bread-and-butter  miss — is  a  lively,  wide-awake 


THE    GERMAN   WOMAN  195 

young  person  who  does  indeed  pay  some  attention 
to  her  appearance,  but  usually  without  the  smallest 
success.  Her  mother  has  no  taste,  and  so  she 
has  no  taste,  and  after  she  is  married  and  her 
business  in  society  over,  what  little  chic  she 
ever  had  vanishes.  She  is  then  not  exactly 
disorderly,  everything  about  her  —  her  home 
and  children — ^^is  always  scrupulously  clean  and 
neat,  but  one  misses  a  certain  delicacy,  a  certain 
feminine  charm.  In  a  word,  she  is  an  excellent 
painstaking  housekeeper,  but  no  artist  in  her  home 
life;  she  has  no  eye  for  details  or  suitabilities. 
Everything  is  solid,  good,  and  dull. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  must  defend  her  from  the 
reputation  of  being  no  more  than  her  husband's 
housekeeper — from  an  unwarrantable  exaggera- 
tion of  the  "Kinder,  Kirche,  und  Kiiche,"  theory.  A 
middle-class  German  woman  certainly  does  mend 
her  husband's  clothes,  and  does  look  after  the  house 
and  the  children  much  more  than  an  English- 
woman does.  Very  often  she  can  not  afford  more 
than  one  servant,  and,  even  when  she  rises  to  the 
magnificence  of  two,  she  is  usually  so  accustomed 
to  the  routine  that  she  can  not  give  it  up,  and  is  al- 
ways interfering  in  the  household — a  course  of  con- 
duct to  which,  fortunately,  most  German  servants 


196  THE    GERMANS 

are  hardened.  But  there  is  one  point  which  must 
not  be  overlooked — she  is  her  husband's  companion 
and  his  helpmate,  and  she  holds  a  commanding  in- 
fluence in  his  life.  She  is  not  the  submissive,  v^or- 
shipping  and  bullied  slave  of  the  fables. 

When  the  Empress  Frederic  came  to  Germany 
and  announced  her  intention  of  raising  and  freeing 
German  women,  they  rose  en  masse  with  the  in- 
dignant protest  that  they  had  all  the  freedom  and 
all  the  means  to  progress  which  they  needed.  Such 
is  indeed  the  case — what  the  German  woman  is  she 
is  of  her  own  free  will,  and  she  advances  after  her 
own  fashion,  winning  quietly  her  position  in  the 
world  by  reason  of  her  character  and  her  education. 
For  she  is  courageous,  loyal,  industrious,  filled  with 
the  sense  of  her  responsibilities,  determined,  and 
clear-headed.  She  is  the  woman  to  whom  a  man 
can  turn  in  time  of  difficulty  and  trial  with  the 
knowledge  that  he  will  find  in  her  a  sturdy  com- 
rade, ready  to  share  every  burden  and  sacrifice. 
She  is  a  direct  descendant  of  the  women  who,  in 
the  great  days  when  Germany  was  struggling  for 
her  freedom,  sold  their  wedding-rings  and  wore 
rings  of  iron  in  order  that  the  Fatherland  might  not 
lack  the  means  to  carry  on  the  conflict.  She  brings 
sacrifices  to-day,  though  of  another  sort. 


THE   GERMAN  WOMAN  197 

The  wife,  whose  ofBcer  husband  attends  court 
functions  and  associates  in  the  highest  society,  cooks 
his  dinner,  nurses  and  dresses  the  children,  goes 
without  luxuries  in  order  that  he  may  represent  his 
name  and  his  position  fittingly.  She  dresses  shab- 
bily, he  in  the  smartest  uniforms ;  she  restricts  her- 
self to  the  smallest  pleasures,  while  he  lives  a  life 
of  outward  brilliancy.  To  all  appearances  she  is 
an  unpaid  housekeeper,  and  yet — verily  she  hath 
her  reward.  She  is  really  her  husband's  helpmate, 
and  this,  together  with  the  trust  and  confidence  that 
he  gives  her  in  return,  is  all  the  happiness  she  asks 
of  life.  She  knows  that  he,  too,  has  his  hardships 
to  bear,  and  she  is  proud  that  she  can  take  her  part 
in  them — she  has,  in  fact,  won  the  right  to  share 
everything  with  him,  both  joy  and  sorrow.  It  is  the 
same  in  every  sphere.  The  wife,  the  daughter,  the 
sister — they  are  all  of  the  same  caliber,  and  they 
bring  willingly,  and  not  because  they  must,  sacri- 
fices to  their  name  or  their  love,  which  seem  almost 
overwhelming.  And  they  are  by  no  means  merely 
passive  victims  of  their  own  powers  of  self-abnega- 
tion. 

I  know  one  woman  whose  husband  is  a  pro- 
fessor of  high  reputation.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that 
they  have  three  children  and  one  servant,  she  man- 


198  THE    GERMANS 

ages  to  find  time  to  arrange  his  notes,  correct  his 
lectures,  and  help  him  with  his  instruments.  She 
dresses  disgracefully,  and  looks  like  a  better-class 
servant,  but  she  is  an  intelligent,  highly  educated 
woman,  and  her  life  is  crowded  with  intellectual 
as  well  as  domestic  interest.  She  is  an  example 
taken  out  of  a  great  class.  On  the  one  hand,  she 
holds  the  home  together;  a  devoted  mother  and 
wife,  she  leaves  no  particle  of  her  home  duties  un- 
fulfilled ;  she  neglects  herself.  Her  life,  seen  by  the 
Englishwoman,  is  full  of  sacrifice  and  hardship, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  she  is  intellectually  keenly 
alive.  She  can — if  she  will — talk  to  you  with  un- 
derstanding on  art,  music,  science,  literature,  even 
on  politics,  though  the  latter  interest  her  as  little 
as  they  interest  her  husband;  she  is  well  read,  and 
is  well  up  in  all  the  social  and  economical  questions 
of  the  day;  she  is,  en  fin,  anything  but  a  mere  house- 
keeper. 

Nevertheless,  though  a  great  deal  must  be  added 
on  to  the  Kinder,  Kirche,  und  Kiiche  program  in 
order  to  obtain  a  correct  survey  of  the  German 
woman's  interests,  the  two  first  items  are  very  se- 
rious topics  in  her  ordinary  conversation.  In  fact, 
wherever  she  goes  and  whatever  she  does,  her 
household  interests  seem  to  cling  to  her.    I  remem- 


THE   GERMAN   WOMAN  199 

ber  in  a  Lohengrin  performance  hearing  one  lady 
whisper  to  another: 

"Horen  Sie  mal,  Gnadige  Frau,  was  machen  Sie 

mit  Ihren  Wurstzipfeln?"  ("Tell  me,  Mrs. , 

what  do  you  do  with  your  sausage  ends?") 

Now,  I  knew  that  the  speaker  was  very  musical, 
that  there  was  not  a  tone  in  the  opera  which  she  did 
not  know  and  appreciate,  that  the  text  and  its  full 
meaning  was  A,  B,  C  to  her,  but  her  home  and  its 
absorbing  problems  recurred  to  her,  and,  carried 
off  on  the  wings  of  impulse,  she  asked  the  vital  ques- 
tion whose  answer  I  was  unfortunate  enough  to 
miss,  thanks  to  "The  Bridal  Chorus."  I  believe, 
however,  that  in  other  countries  besides  Germany 
the  matters  of  servants  and  cooking  are  not  wholly 
tabooed  subjects  among  ladies,  so  that  it  would  be 
unwise  to  throw  stones  if  the  German  Hausf  rau  sins 
considerably  in  this  respect.  At  any  rate,  I  can 
only  say  in  her  defense  that  she  can  talk  on  other 
matters  if  she  chooses,  and  that  her  brains  are  far 
from  idle.  I  can  not  pretend,  however,  that  she  is 
a  very  attractive  woman.  Her  lack  of  vanity,  her 
very  unselfishness,  devotion,  and  earnestness,  are 
'virtues  which  tend  to  make  her  ponderous,  a  little 
stodgy,  though  not  insipid.  She  lacks  the  English- 
woman's   savoir-vivre    and    the    Frenchwoman's 


20O  THE   GERMANS 

lightness  of  touch,  and  though  we  can  not  shut  our 
hearts  against  her  sincerity  and  goodness,  though 
we  are  forced  to  admire  and  even  envy  the  sterling 
qualities  to  which  her  country  owes  so  much,  she 
leaves  our  enthusiasm  limping.  I  suppose  the  es- 
sentially German  qualities  of  thoroughness  and 
Pflichtgefuhl  are  too  massive  for  our  ideas  of  fem- 
ininity. 

It  would  be  unfair  and  also  a  serious  error  not 
to  add  that  there  is  a  subdivision  of  the  domestic 
group  which  is  attractive,  and  which  has  a  charge 
entirely  of  its  own.  If  you  take  a  step  upward  on 
the  social  ladder,  you  may  suddenly  find  yourself 
face  to  face  with  a  type  which  will  completely  up- 
set all  your  previous  ideas  and  theories.  Among 
the  aristocracy,  and  even  among  the  old  bourgeois 
families,  there  are  women  whose  grace,  dignity, 
and  refinement  are  united  to  the  sterling  virtues  of 
her  less  interesting  sister,  making  of  her  a  person- 
age whose  equal  it  would  be  hard  to  find  in  any 
part  of  the  world.  I  venture  to  place  the  present 
German  Empress  as  a  type  of  this  class.  Domesti- 
cated, devoted  body  and  soul  to  her  duty,  self- 
efifacing  yet  all-powerful,  noble  in  bearing  and  in 
life,  tactful  and  gracious,  she  is  the  German  ideal 
of  a  woman,  and  in  modified  degrees  one  meets  her 


THE   GERMAN  WOMAN  201 

everywhere  in  the  circles  of  the  upper  classes.  There 
the  indifference  to  outward  things  is  exchanged  for 
a  refinement  of  taste  which  never,  as  it  does,  alas,  in 
other  lands,  degenerates  into  vulgar  ostentation. 

I  have  never  seen  a  German  lady  of  position 
loudly  dressed  or  overdressed,  but  I  have  seen  her 
as  elegant,  as  "vornehm,"  as  any  woman  under  the 
sun.  I  even  dare  assert  that  a  German  woman  at 
her  best  is  not  to  be  rivaled.  She  has  a  certain 
strength,  a  certain  grandness  of  bearing  and  char- 
acter, which  more  than  atones  for  the  lack  of 
daintiness,  chic,  or  whatever  you  like  to  call  it, 
which  distinguishes  the  woman  of  other  lands.  The 
high  principles  on  which  her  life  is  built  seem  to 
find  their  expression  in  her  face  and  carriage,  and 
there  is,  added  to  this  worth,  the  might  of  an  un- 
equaled  education.  The  reason  why  she  is  better 
educated  than  other  women  is  a  subject  for  another 
chapter — it  is  sufficient  for  the  present  to  state  the 
fact. 

Like  the  whole  aristocracy,  she  carries  the 
principle  of  noblesse  oblige  into  her  branch  of  life, 
and  to  know  her  is  to  admire  her,  to  feel  for  her  an 
ungrudging  admiration  and  even  reverence.  But 
alas,  she  is  not  to  be  met  on  the  streets.  She  leads, 
for  the  most  part,  an  exclusive  life  of  her  own — not 


r^ 


202  THE    GERMANS 

a  narrow  life,  for  her  interests  are  peculiarly  wide 
— but  socially  she  rarely  moves  out  of  her  circle. 
So  I  suppose  it  is  quite  natural  that  a  foreigner 
should  shake  his  head  over  the  woman  he  meets  on 
his  tour  of  inspection.  The  extraordinary  mixtures 
of  dowdy  colors,  the  orderly  disorder  of  their  at- 
tire, the  badly  done  hair,  neglected  figures,  the  Re- 
form— yes,  I  can  understand  and  sympathize  with 
his  feelings.  I  can  only  comfort  him  with  the  hope 
that  one  day  things  will  grow  better,  and  that,  in 
the  meantime,  if  he  gives  himself  the  trouble  to 
look  for  them,  he  will  find  charming  as  well  as 
clever  women  hidden  away  in  the  sober-looking 
houses  so  difficult  of  access. 

There  is  now  the  other  great  division  in  the 
woman's  world  to  be  considered — the  talented, 
professional  girls  and  women,  who  are  working 
either  for  their  living  or  because  work  seems  to 
them  life's  highest  happiness.  Their  numbers  are 
growing  daily.  Without  sound,  without  commo- 
tion, the  barriers  which  were  held  up  against 
woman's  entry  into  the  professions  have  been  over- 
thrown. The  first  heroic  woman's  battle  in  the 
universities,  her  firm  defiance  of  the  insults,  irrita- 
tions, and  unfairness  of  the  students  and  professors, 
who  did  not  scruple  to  destroy  her  work  or  grossly 


THE   GERMAN  WOMAN  203 

underestimate  its  value,  has  cleared  the  road  for 
hundreds  of  others  who  are  pressing  eagerly  for- 
ward. 

It  is  estimated,  for  instance,  that  there  are 
seventy  women  doctors  in  Germany,  and  that  they 
have  more  to  do  than  they  can  manage,  and  in  this 
profession  as  in  many  others  the  demand  is  rapidly 
increasing.  Women  doctors,  scientists,  dentists, 
writers,  painters,  musicians,  lecturers,  gardeners, 
farmers — they  are  all  on  the  march,  and  though  the 
struggle  against  prejudice  and  envy  may  be  hard, 
the  ultimate  victory  is  sure.  It  is  all  the  surer  be- 
cause there  is  nothing  hysterical  or  violent  in  the 
German  woman's  advance.  She  is  overcoming  her 
enemies,  not  by  stone- throwing  and  assault,  but  by 
the  force  of  her  real  value,  character,  and  attain- 
ments. You  can  suppress  rowdyism  and  noise,  but 
you  can  not  suppress  ability,  and  the  German 
woman  student  has  proved  herself  more  than  able 
to  fill  the  posts  which  she  covets.  She  may  not  be 
outwardly  very  attractive — the  pioneers  of  a  great 
movement  are  usually  unattractive,  the  struggle  ab- 
sorbs too  much  of  their  energy — but  she  is  bril- 
liantly clever,  hard  working,  thorough,  and  blessed 
with  an  indomitable  purpose.  If  the  political 
progress  seems  slow  in  English  eyes,  it  is  because  it 


204  THE    GERMANS 

is  less  noisy  and  also  because  politics  plays  a  com- 
paratively small  part  in  German  life. 

"I  can  not  understand  the  feverish  interest  you 
take  in  the  elections/'  a  German  lady  said  to  me, 
the  other  day.  "I  confess  that  politics  bore  me  to 
extinction,  and  I  fancy  they  bore  most  Germans 
except  those  actually  engaged  in  the  fray."  And 
she  was  one  of  the  emancipated — one  of  the  women 
workers!  Still,  in  spite  of  this  indifference,  I  have 
heard  well-informed  men  declare  that  the  German 
woman's  vote  is  not  far  off — one  even  asserted 
boldly  that  it  lay  nearer  in  the  future  than  the  Eng- 
lish woman's,  because  she  had  not  alienated  the 
sympathy  of  moderate  people  by  her  extreme  con- 
duct. I  do  not  profess  to  know  how  much  truth 
there  is  in  these  optimistic  prophecies,  or  in  how  far 
they  are  really  optimistic,  but  of  one  thing  I  am 
sure — that  mentally  she  is  as  well  prepared  as  any 
other  woman  in  the  world  for  the  new  burden,  and 
that  she  will  endeavor  to  do  her  duty  faithfully. 


CHAPTER  XI 

SPORTING  MATTERS 

"Half-past  four  on  a  dreary  January  morning,  a 
drizzling  rain,  a  dank,  chilly  atmosphere — surely 
not  very  promising  conditions  for  a  day's  sport 
amidst  snow  and  ice!" 

This  was  the  grumbled  verdict  of  the  English 
friend  when  I  aroused  her  from  her  cruelly  cur- 
tailed slumbers  to  accompany  me  on  a  long- 
planned  expedition  into  the  Black  Forest.  Myself 
too  sleepy  to  expostulate,  and  through  want  of  ex- 
perience a  little  shaken  in  my  hopes  by  the  gloomy 
outlook,  I  merely  pointed  to  my  German  friend, 
who  was  going  about  her  preparations  with  calm 
cheerfulness. 

"Everybody  will  think  us  mad  parading  through 
the  mud  with  tobogganoes !"  said  English  Ig- 
norance, decidedly  grumpy. 

"Wait  and  see!"  retorted  German  Wisdom,  go- 
ing on  with  her  breakfast. 

Coffee  and  rolls — even  if  the  latter  remind  one 

205 


2o6  THE    GERMANS 

somewhat  of  yesterday — are  great  magicians,  and 
at  half-past  five  our  party,  enlarged  by  outside  con- 
tingents, was  on  its  way  down  the  silent  streets  in 
the  best  of  spirits,  dragging  behind  a  veritable 
army  of  bumping,  very  out-of-place-looking  to- 
bogganoes.  There  is  a  decided  charm  in  getting 
up  and  going  out  at  unearthly  hours — occasionally. 
It  is  a  cause  of  real  moral  elevation  to  look  at  the 
blank  Hghtless  windows,  and  know  that  behind  the 
shutters  lazy  folk  are  still  dreaming,  while  you  are 
awake  and  active.  You  have  an  overweening  con- 
tempt for  such  people,  and  a  strong  desire  to  spoil 
their  slumbers  by  creating  as  much  noise  as  pos- 
sible. In  fact,  we  felt  ourselves  the  heroes  of 
Karlsruhe  uiitil  we  reached  the  station,  where  our 
self-satisfaction  was  not  a  little  dampened  by  the 
discovery  that  we  were  only  a  few  among  many. 
Stout  German  ladies,  whom  you  could  hardly 
imagine  taking  a  moderate  walk,  in  short  skirts, 
thick  boots,  and  pert  Alpine  caps;  young  girls,  old 
men,  young  men,  all  in  correct  sporting  attire, 
crowded  round  the  booking-office,  and  English 
Ignorance  rubbed  its  eyes. 

"Am  I  really  in  Germany,  or  am  I  dreaming?" 
she  inquired  dazedly. 

"If  you  are  dreaming,  please  wake  up,  or  we 


SPORTING   MATTERS  207 

shall  miss  the  train!"  retorted  German  Wisdom, 
taking  third-class  tickets. 

German  third-class  carriages  are  uncushioned 
horrors  which  we  usually  scorn,  but  it  is  part  of  the 
sport  to  be  as  uncomfortable  as  possible,  and  as 
none  of  our  companions  seemed  to  think  of  second- 
class  luxuries  we  followed  meekly  into  the  glorified 
cattle-trucks  set  at  our  disposal.  Fortunately  we 
were  a  sufficiently  large  party  to  obtain  a  compart- 
ment all  to  ourselves.  I  say  "fortunately,"  for  by 
this  time  we  were  all  thoroughly  awake,  and  our 
spirits  had  risen  to  a  degree  which,  together  with 
our  suspiciously  new-looking  tobogganoes,  must 
have  betrayed  to  the  other  calm  and  sober  travelers 
that  this  excursion  was  something  new  too,  that  we 
were,  in  fact,  far  from  being  veterans.  After  an 
hour  in  the  "Bummelzug,"  which  stopped  at  every 
station  to  pick  up  fresh  parties,  we  arrived  at  a 
junction,  where  we  were  turned  out  and  transferred 
into  a  little  mountain  railway.  We  had  already 
climbed  a  few  hundred  feet  upward,  and  a  thin 
covering  of  snow  shimmered  hopefully  beneath  the 
station  lights. 

"I  trust  there  will  be  more  than  that  where  we 
are  going  to!"  said  English  Ignorance,  to  which  re- 
mark German  Wisdom  deigned  no  answer. 


2o8  THE   GERMANS 

It  was  a  decidedly  dirty  and  smelly  little  moun- 
tain train,  but  it  performed  wonders,  transporting 
us  out  of  the  land  of  gloom  and  slush  into  a  land  of 
fairy-like  and  spotless  beauty.  Thick  snow  lay  on 
the  ground  as  we  descended  from  our  murky  com- 
partment, and  the  dawn  breaking  through  the  gray 
mists  revealed  great  fir-covered  mountains,  silent 
and  awe-inspiring  in  their  unsullied  magnificence. 
English  Ignorance  collapsed  into  speechless  ad- 
miration as  the  sleigh  glided  along  the  winding 
road,  the  bells  ringing  out  on  to  the  crisp  stillness, 
the  horses'  hoofs  muffled  to  a  soft,  almost  inaudible, 
thud.  German  Wisdom  developed  a  certain  par- 
donable amount  of  pride. 

"You  haven't  anything  like  this  in  England,  have 
you,  now?" 

And  English  Ignorance,  usually  exceedingly  ar- 
rogant, meekly  admitted  that  this  world  which  a 
short  train  journey  had  revealed  was  something  as 
new  as  it  was  wonderful. 

Always  higher,  through  picturesque  villages, 
past  lonely  huts,  ever  deeper  into  the  white  forest! 
The  snow  lay  piled  up  six  feet  deep  on  either  side, 
the  mighty  fir-trees  hung  their  branches  patiently 
beneath  their  burden,  their  little  sisters  lying  at 
their  feet,  almost  completely  buried  or  peering  out 


COPYRICSMT,  BY  OIWOERWOOO  A  UNDERWOOD,  N.  V. 

Wood-carvers  at  work  in  a  shop  at  Romberg,   in  the   Black  Forest 


SPORTING    MATTERS  209 

like  quaint-shaped  gnomes ;  long  icicles  hung  from 
the  rocks,  over  which,  when  the  spring  comes,  the 
torrents  will  pour  tumultuously  down  into  the  val- 
ley. A  dead  hush  rested  on  the  whole  white  world, 
only  broken  by  the  jingling  of  our  bells  as,  like 
rude  intruders,  we  passed  on  our  way  among  the 
countless  sleeping  giants.  The  sky  was  still  gray, 
and  here  and  there  as  the  road  curved  we  plunged 
into  thick  banks  of  mist  which  obscured  the  valley 
already  far  beneath,  but  at  last,  as  the  Ruhenstein 
Hotel  hove  in  sight,  the  watching  German  eyes 
descried  the  first  blue  rift,  and  a  few  moments  later 
the  whole  scene  had  changed.  The  mists  parted,  a 
brilliant  sky  threw  into  more  perfect  relief  the  un- 
spotted whiteness  of  this  suddenly  revealed  fairy- 
land. 

We  no  longer  walked  on  snow,  we  walked  on 
diamonds,  which  flashed  their  tiny  reflections  back 
at  the  warm  sunshine,  the  hanging  icicles  became 
glittering  streaks  of  light,  the  whole  peaceful 
lovely  world  shimmered  in  dazzling  splendor. 
English  Ignorance,  open-mouthed,  blissfully  over- 
whelmed, stood  on  the  doorstep  of  the  hotel — a 
simple  Black  Forest  Gasthaus — and  scorned  the 
thought  of  dinner.  Fortunately  German  Wisdom 
prevailed,  and  having  made  a  scanty  toilet — it  is 


2IO  THE    GERMANS 

not  sporting  to  be  too  immaculate — we  found  our- 
selves at  a  long  table  with  half  a  dozen  other  guests 
enjoying  the  country  fare.  As  yet  the  hotel  was 
practically  empty,  for  the  chief  guests  were  ex- 
pected later  on  in  the  day.  These  came  to  stay  for 
three  or  four  nights  in  order  to  take  part  in  the 
Ski-Kursus,  paying  for  their  board  and  instruction 
the  large  sum  of  four  marks  per  diem. 

Not  so  fortunate — the  one  hundred  and  forty 
beds  were  already  taken — we  had  to  make  the  most 
of  our  time,  and  the  meal  over,  we  hurried  out 
and  began  our  sporting  experiments.  Nothing 
venture,  nothing  win!  Emboldened  by  a  success- 
ful flight  down  the  toboggan  run,  we  borrowed  the 
necessary  skis  and  started  on  the  beginner's  slope — 
after  a  certain  amount  of  nervous  preliminaries,  for 
the  first  effort  is  like  a  leap  into  an  unknown 
eternity.  An  instant's  magnificent  perpendicular 
amidst  ironical  "ohs"  and  "ahs"  of  admiration 
from  German  Wisdom,  a  sudden  lurch,  and  the 
glory  was  at  an  end!  I  finished  the  career  in  a 
curious  sitting  posture,  which  I  believe  is  unattain- 
able even  by  the  most  proficient  ski-runners.  So 
much  was  tolerable,  but,  alas!  the  home-road  had 
to  be  faced.  One  agonized  step  forward,  an  en- 
tirely unwished-for  slide  backwards,  which  flung 


SPORTING    MATTERS  211 

mc  forward  with  a  painful  wrench  at  the  ankles,  a 
desperate  plunge,  volumes  of  advice  from  German 
Wisdom  convulsed  with  laughter  at  the  top  of  the 
bank. 

^Why  don't  you  dig  your  feet  in  sidewise?  Keep 
your  knees  together!  You'll  be  up  soon!" 

A  second  German  Wisdom  on  skis  offered  to 
come  down  and  help  me,  to  which  I  retorted,  I 
fear,  without  the  necessary  politeness.  I  have  found 
there  is  nothing  which  can  make  a  human  being  so 
furious  as  trying  to  get  up  a  steep  slope  on  a  pair  of 
skis,  especially  for  the  first  time,  and  on  that  ac- 
count I  trust  my  abruptness  was  forgiven.  At  last  I 
reached  the  top,  thanks  to  the  discovery  that  by 
sitting  down  and  bumping  yourself  along  with 
your  hands  you  can  attain  a  speed  of  something 
like  a  yard  every  five  minutes.  My  hat  over  one 
ear,  covered  in  snow,  distinctly  heated,  in  every 
sense  of  the  word,  I  had  then  to  listen  to  German 
Wisdom's  observations. 

"You  have  no  idea  how  funny  you  looked!  It 
was  quite  the  most  ridiculous  sight  I  have  ever  seen. 
Do  go  down  again!  Don't  you  like  it  immensely?" 

German  Wisdom  II  offered  me  thereupon  a  little 
instructive  pamphlet,  from  which  I  learned  that 
the  chief  thing  is  not  to  fall  down. 


212  *  THE    GERMANS 

"I  shall  try  again  in  a  minute,"  I  said,  with  dig- 
nity. "Only  give  me  time  I" 

I  then  looked  about  me,  while  German  Wisdom 
sailed  away  gracefully  and  with  the  most  irritating 
ease.  It  was  altogether  rather  trying  for  poor  Eng- 
lish Arrogance,  accustomed  to  excel  in  all  matters 
sporting,  to  see  the  much-despised  German  people, 
who  are  no  good  at  tennis  or  foot-ball,  and  have  no 
understanding  for  cricket,  performing  the  most 
wonderful  feats  on  the  unmanageable  slender 
planks.  It  was  insult  to  injury  when  a  stout  matron 
clambered  calmly  and  without  effort  up  the  slope 
which  had  brought  English  Arrogance  to  so  hu- 
miliating a  fall,  when,  in  fact,  everybody  could  per- 
form what  seemed  an  impossibility.  I  tried  again, 
I  tried  until  tea-time,  when  the  first  shadows  of 
evening  began  to  creep  over  the  snow,  and  I,  wet 
through  and  weary  but  by  no  means  conquered,  re- 
turned my  skis  to  the  rightful  owner. 

"If  you  come  every  week  for  a  year  or  two  you 
might  be  able  to  manage  quite  nicely,"  he  said 
condescendingly.  "The  great  thing  is  not  to  fall 
down." 

German  Wisdom  offered  consolation. 

"We  will  toboggan  together  back  to  the  valley," 
she  said.  "Then  you  will  know  what  it  is  to  live." 


SPORTING    MATTERS  213 

No  sooner  suggested  than  weariness  fled.  The 
others  packed  themselves  into  the  waiting  sleigh, 
but  we  dragged  our  toboggano  to  the  top  of  the 
ski-path,  and  with  German  Wisdom  at  the  helm 
began  the  descent.  It  had  taken  us  two  hours  to 
climb  the  mountain — we  reached  the  village  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour.  I  do  not  know  how  fast  we 
went  or  indeed  what  happened.  I  was  only  con- 
scious of  flying  through  the  crisp,  keen  air,  swerv- 
ing round  sharp  corners,  past  ski-laufers  on  their 
way  up  to  the  hotel,  into  gray  mists  with  the  flakes 
of  snow  flying  in  our  faces,  out  on  to  the  highroad, 
and  still  on  till  the  village  and  an  uncomfortable 
grating  told  us  that  it  was  all  over.  A  wonderful, 
never-to-be-forgotten  quarter  of  an  hour!  Regret- 
fully we  walked  back  to  meet  the  sleigh,  and  hitch- 
ing it  on  behind  allowed  ourselves  to  be  bumped 
through  the  thin  snow  to  the  station.  Down  in  the 
valley  a  thaw  had  set  in,  and  long  before  we 
reached  the  destination  our  ride  had  become  dis- 
tinctly unpleasant,  but  on  such  occasions  the  un- 
pleasant counts  for  nothing  against  the  pleasures 
which  one  has  had  in  such  generous  quantities. 

Not  even  the  train  journey,  not  even  the  aching 
limbs  and  soaking  clothes  could  reduce  our  spirits 
or  mar  our  recollections.    We  had  been  sixteen 


214  THE    GERMANS 

hours  en  route,  and  were  proud  of  our  energy  and 
endurance.  It  was  this  pride  which  led  me  to  con- 
sider the  four  Germans  who  belonged  to  our  party 
in  a  new  and  more  respectful  light.  None  of  them 
could  play  tennis  or  hockey  or  cricket — I  had  re- 
garded them  hitherto  as  utterly  unsporting  people 
— but  they  had  borne  the  fatigue  better  than  I  had 
done,  and  they  had  certainly  understood  a  form  of 
sport  which  required  as  much  energy  and  skill  as 
any  of  my  favorite  games.  I  could  no  longer  say 
that  they  were  "unsporting,"  and  yet —  Consider- 
ably puzzled,  with  all  my  pet  theories  thrown  into 
confusion,  as  is  the  fate  of  most  theories,  I  turned 
to  German  Wisdom  for  a  solution. 

"We  like  sport,"  she  explained  pertinently,  "but 
we  do  not  care  for  games." 

Voila!  You  have  the  whole  German  attitude  in 
a  nutshell.  This  simple  statement  explains,  for  in- 
stance, why  most  young  people  do  not  care  in  the 
least  for  tennis — or,  at  any  rate,  only  pretend  to.  It 
is  true  that  in  Karlsruhe  there  are  dozens  of  tennis- 
courts,  all  in  possession  of  the  various  tennis- 
Kranzchen,  but  they  are  simply  means  to  an  end. 
Out  of  ten,  perhaps  one  player  has  an  idea  of  the 
game — the  rest  play  anyhow,  and  in  any  attire — 
most  probably  in  their  every-day  clothes — and  the 


SPORTING    MATTERS  215 

tennis-racquet  is  no  more  than  an  excuse,  a  sort  of 
unobtrusive  chaperon  who  allows  Hans  to  accom- 
pany Gretel  home  through  the  wood  without  any- 
body's sense  of  decorum  being  mortally  wounded. 
It  is  true,  also,  that  there  are  numberless  clubs 
where  a  good  player  is  occasionally  to  be  found, 
but  the  latter  is  an  exception,  and  in  six  years  I 
have  only  met  one  girl  who  could  play  averagely 
well,  and  she  was  from  Baden-Baden!  In  the  latter 
town,  indeed  everywhere  where  the  foreign  ele- 
ment is  largely  represented,  the  so-called  sporting 
people  are  more  plentiful.  The  German  is  a  clever 
parrot  in  such  matters,  and  very  quick  to  pick  up 
foreign  ways  and  customs — perhaps  too  quick. 

Hence  in  North  Germany  and  in  all  watering- 
places  it  is  possible  to  obtain  first-class  tennis — in 
fact  our  champions  will  very  soon  have  to  look  to 
their  laurels  in  this  respect — but  in  ordinary  towns 
and  among  genuine  Germans  the  love  for  tennis 
and  all  such  forms  of  physical  amusement  is  arti- 
ficial in  the  extreme.  They  play  because  it  is  the 
fashion,  and,  above  all,  because  it  is  an  excuse  for 
coming  together.  Other  games,  such  as  hockey  and 
foot-ball,  are  altogether  tabooed  by  the  better  classes 
as  violent  and  brutal.  There  are  three  foot-ball 
clubs  in  Karlsruhe,  two  of  which  have  well-trained 


2i6  THE    GERMANS 

and  capable  teams,  but  they  are  made  up  of  men 
from  the  lower  ranks,  and  the  crowd  which  pours 
out  on  Sunday  to  watch  the  matches  consists  of 
shop-keepers,  small  officials,  clerks,  and  so  on. 

In  vain  royalty  has  bestowed  its  patronage  on 
every  form  of  sport;  in  vain  the  commanders  of 
cadet  schools,  the  principals  of  colleges,  have  en- 
deavored by  persuasion  and  force  to  bring  the  Ger- 
man youth  to  play  foot-ball  and  cricket.  Do  what 
they  will,  they  can  only  obtain  a  reluctant  obedi- 
ence, and  as  soon  as  the  compulsion  is  at  an  end  the 
German  flings  both  games  aside,  together  with  other 
equally  objectionable  school  duties.  In  the  girls' 
schools  it  is  the  same.  Tennis  is  played  after  a 
fashioUj  but  that  is  the  only  concession  which  the 
most  sporting  and  determined  English  governess 
can  obtain  from  her  pupils.  In  after  life  they  keep 
up  this  one  game,  but  nothing  short  of  violence  will 
get  them  to  indulge  in  hockey,  let  alone  cricket, 
which  latter  everybody  thinks  extremely  dull.  Dur- 
ing the  present  winter  an  heroic  and  international 
person  tried  to  get  up  a  ladies'  hockey-club,  and 
actually  succeeded  in  wheedling  five  German  and 
six  English  ladies  to  help  in  the  attempt.  The  Ger- 
mans paid  their  subscriptions,  came  once,  and — 
never  came  again.    As  a  team  can  not  exist  on  six 


SPORTING   MATTERS  217 

members,  the  English  party  also  dropped  away, 
and  the  effort  had  to  be  abandoned. 

The  aristocracy,  who  set  the  fashion  in  such 
matters,  take  very  small  part  in  sport  beyond  racing 
and  hunting.  In  North  Germany  there  is  a  certain 
amount  of  polo,  and  a  select  circle  goes  in  for  ten- 
nis in  style,  but  it  is  only  a  select  circle.  The  mass 
remain  either  entirely  indifferent  or  pick  up  a  rudi- 
mentary idea  of  that  one  recognized  game,  because 
it  is  a  social  convenience.  The  consequences  are, 
naturally,  far  from  brilliant,  and  sometimes  absurd. 
No  doubt  matters  have  improved.  When  I  first 
came  here,  for  instance,  the  officers  played  bat  and 
ball — so-called  tennis — in  their  uniforms,  and  it 
was  quite  usual  for  a  civilian  to  run  about  a  court 
in  a  tweed  suit  and  a  bowler  haj:.  This  year  I  have 
noticed  a  striking  predominance  of  flannels,  and  a 
gratifying  attempt  at  style.  But  the  fatal  fact  still 
remains,  that  the  real  love  of  the  thing,  the  need  of 
it,  does  not  exist.  Perhaps  it  is  just  as  well.  Chacun 
a  son  gout  and  the  German  has  no  real  need  for 
sport,  or  at  any  rate  our  form  of  sport.  Whatever 
educational  or  physical  disadvantages  his  indiffer- 
ence to  games  might  entail  is  atoned  for  by  gym- 
nastics, his  military  service,  and  the  form  of  sport 
which  he  enjoys.    The  German  is  devoted  to  all 


2i8  THE    GERMANS 

kinds  of  exercise  which  are  in  direct  connection 
with  nature,  with  outdoor  life.  The  man  who  sees 
no  pleasure  in  being  cooped  up  in  a  tennis-court  or 
in  a  foot-ball  field  will  travel  miles  on  skis  through 
the  forests,  skate  every  free  minute  of  his  day,  and 
in  the  heat  of  the  summer  undertake  long  walking 
01  mountaineering  tours.  In  this  respect  one  must 
not  judge  by  the  specimens  to  be  met  with  in  fash- 
ionable hotels  in  the  height  of  the  season.  There 
are  lazy  Germans  as  there  are  lazy  people  of  all 
nations,  and  the  energetic  Teuton  does  not  frequent 
fashionable  hotels.  He  chooses  out  less-known 
places,  and  "roughs  it"  to  his  heart's  content. 

At  his  own  particular  sports  the  German  is  a 
first-class  man,  and  even  the  German  woman,  who 
seems  at  first  sight  a  hopeless  case,  can  develop  an 
energy  which  is  simply  astonishing.  Every  German 
girl  can  skate  well,  most  are  good  swimmers  and 
walkers,  and  proficient  in  winter  sports.  Many  of 
my  girl  acquaintances,  for  instance,  whose  tennis 
has  reduced  me  to  pity  and  distraction,  spend  three 
or  four  weeks  of  the  winter  in  the  Black  Forest 
ski-ing  or  tobogganing.  They  then  show  a  common 
sense,  a  sporting  spirit,  which  seems  to  desert  them 
the  moment  they  touch  an  imported  game.  They 
dress  correctly  and  sensibly,  either  in  short  skirts  or 


SPORTING   MATTERS  219 

even  in  knickerbockers  and  jerseys;  they  take  part 
in  the  races,  often  make  remarkable  records,  and 
display  at  all  times  a  nerve  and  endurance  alto- 
gether bewildering  for  those  who  have  only  seen 
them  in  their  town  life.  It  is  only  when  you  ask 
them  to  play  games  that  they  fail — chiefly,  I  think, 
because  they  do  not  want  to  succeed. 

This  point  reveals  an  interesting  trait  in  the  Ger- 
man character — a  lack  of  competitiveness,  an  indif- 
ference to  a  success  whose  only  value  is  the  defeat  of 
some  one  else.  In  school  a  boy  works  hard,  not  for 
the  prize — as  a  rule  there  is  none — or  because  he 
wants  to  do  better  than  a  comrade,  but  because  he 
sees  a  distinct  personal  value  in  knowledge — he 
learns,  in  fact,  for  learning's  sake.  In  after  life  he 
conducts  his  business  on  the  same  principle.  He 
works  tenaciously  because  work  is  his  life,  and  be- 
cause he  sees  its  distinct  utility,  but  he  is  not  in- 
spired by  a  genuine  competitive  instinct.  If  he 
does  better  than  other  people,  it  is  simply  the  result 
of  a  natural  law  which  makes  it  impossible  for 
everybody  to  do  equally  well — his  success,  there- 
fore, gives  him  no  particular  satisfaction.  His  at- 
titude toward  sport  is  quite  in  keeping. 

"And  suppose  I  do  run  myself  hot  and  tired  over 
a  ridiculous  patch  of  ground  after  a  ridiculous  ball, 


220  THE   GERMANS 

and  suppose  I  do  win  a  game,  what  good  will  it  do 
me?"  he  asks. 

"You  will  have  had  splendid  exercise,"  says  the 
Englishman. 

"Yes ;  but  if  I  want  exercise  I  would  rather  go 
for  a  walk  through  the  forest  or  make  a  bicycling 
tour.  Then  I  should  perhaps  learn  something  at 
the  same  time — at  any  rate,  I  should  be  enjoying 
nature." 

"But  then  there  would  be  no  game!"  retorts  the 
Englishman. 

"No  game?  What  is  the  good  of  a  game?  Am  I 
wiser  or  better  if  I  beat  you  at  tennis?" 

"No,  but  the  fun  of  it—" 

"I  don't  see  any  fun  in  beating  somebody  at 
something  which  has  no  value.  That  is  childish  and 
a  waste  of  time." 

A  German  military  hunt  is  another  instance  of 
this  characteristic  dislike  for  or  indifference  to 
competition  in  any  form.  There  are  no  foxes  in 
this  part  of  the  world,  so  a  make-believe  quarry  in 
the  shape  of  a  soldier  on  horseback  dragging  a 
piece  of  raw  meat  behind  him  is  substituted.  The 
hunt  is  usually  conducted  over  hedges  and  ditches 
of  considerable  difficulty,  but  no  one  cares  in  the 
least  who  gets  in  at  the  "kill,"  and  the  pace  set  by 


SPORTING   MATTERS  221 

the  Master  is  usually  decidedly  "gemiitlich."  The 
fact  is  that  the  mere  catching  of  the  ^'fox"  has  no  in- 
terest for  the  hunters,  who  have  simply  come  for 
the  riding's  sake,  and  consequently  take  matters 
most  calmly.  On  the  other  hand,  any  form  of  sport 
which  is  in  direct  connection  with  his  work  excites 
the  officer  to  instant  enthusiasm.  At  the  yearly 
Campagne  Reiten — an  exhibition  of  horsemanship 
for  all  the  different  cavalry  regiments  in  the  Baden 
Army  Corps — I  have  witnessed  some  really  bril- 
liant riding,  and  have  been  struck  by  the  unusual 
interest  and  enthusiasm  displayed.  Each  man  is 
then  strung  up  to  his  best,  and  the  beautiful  horses, 
the  slight  elastic  figures  in  the  gay  uniforms,  the 
daring  feats  down  breakneck  sand-banks  and  over 
impossible-looking  water-jumps,  form  a  picture  of 
always  fresh  attraction.  In  this  case  there  are 
prizes,  but  I  do  not  fancy  that  they  are  the  spurs 
which  urge  every  competitor  to  his  greatest  efforts. 
They  seem  to  be  regarded  as  matters  of  compar- 
atively little  account  compared  to  the  standard  of 
excellence  which  the  winners  have  attained. 

Each  man  does  his  best  because  it  is  essential  for 
him,  as  a  soldier,  to  prove  his  proficiency,  not  for 
the  prize  and  not 'for  the  gratification  of  doing  bet- 
ter than  a  comrade.  It  may  be  that  they  cared  more 


222  THE    GERMANS 

for  their  silver  cups  than  they  showed,  but  that  was 
the  impression  I  received.  In  sport,  as  in  everything, 
there  are,  of  course,  exceptions.  There  is  the  cup- 
hunter,  and  the  man  who,  when  he  loses  a  game, 
loses  his  temper  with  it.  He  exists  in  Germany,  but 
in  small  numbers,  and  the  latter  type  is  rarest  of 
all.  As  a  rule  the  German  is  too  indifferent  to 
care  whether  he  wins  or  not,  and  only  gets  annoyed 
when  too  sharply  criticized  by  his  partner.  It  is 
not  wise  to  tell  your  German  partner  in  a  tennis 
tournament  that  he  is  not  playing  well,  or  in  any 
way  show  your  annoyance  at  his  performance.  As 
I  have  said  before,  he  is  very  sensitive,  and  the 
criticism  will  wound  him  deeply  and  reduce  his 
skill  to  vanishing  point.  On  the  other  hand,  a  little 
praise — however  unmerited — will  encourage  him 
to  the  finest  efforts,  and  he  will  repay  you  by  an  ad- 
miration for  prowess  and  a  consideration  for  your 
blunders  which  is  quite  sincere,  since  it  is  the  ex- 
pression of  his  genuine  gratitude. 

I  might  mention  in  conclusion  the  absolute  In- 
difference of  young  Germany  to  all  card  games. 
Even  the  officers,  who,  in  their  long  evenings  to- 
gether, are  often  hard  put  to  it  to  find  a  new  form 
of  amusement,  remain  very  phlegmatic  devotees. 
I  knew  one  young  lieutenant — he  had  an  English 


SPORTING   MATTERS  223 

mother,  which  perhaps  accounted  for  his  tastes — 
who  was  passionately  fond  of  bridge,  but  in  spite  of 
all  his  efforts  he  could  get  no  one  to  play  with  him. 
Out  of  sheer  pity  we  used  to  arrange  bridge  even- 
ings for  him,  and  his  joy  was  quite  pathetic. 

"They  all  hate  it,"  he  used  to  complain  bitterly; 
"and  most  of  them  won't  even  try  to  learn." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  only  thorough-paced  gam- 
blers and  old  people  play  cards  in  Germany.  The 
latter  have  nothing  else  to  occupy  them,  and  on  that 
account  are  excused,  but  the  sight  of  a  party  of 
young  girls  and  men  sitting  down  to  an  evening's 
bridge  would  reduce  a  pure-blooded  German  to  a 
state  of  grave  bewilderment.  He  would  not  be 
particularly  shocked.  He  would  simply  ask,  "Why 
do  they  do  it?  Why  do  they  like  it?  That  is  an 
occupation  for  those  who  have  not  the  strength  to 
do  anything  else." 

It  is  not,  as  I  have  said  before,  that  the  Germans 
can  not  play — they  do  not  want  to.  My  German 
friend,  for  instance,  is  a  first-class  bridge  player, 
having  picked  it  up  in  England  with  remarkable 
rapidity,  but  only  when  driven  by  sheer  good-na- 
ture will  she  consent  to  take  a  hand.  Other  Ger- 
mans simply  refuse  to  learn. 

"I  will  do  anything  else  you  like,"  one  said  to 


224  THE    GERMANS 

me,  on  my  having  offered  myself  as  an  obliging 
instructor  in  a  selection  of  English  games.  ''I  will 
read  and  talk  French  within  the  house;  I  will  go 
out  riding,  sketching,  touring,  skating  with  you 
when  the  weather  permits,  but  my  life  is  too  short 
to  waste  it  on  games." 

Her  one  exception  is  chess,  which  as  a  game  of 
pure  intellect  is  ^^allowed,"  and  appreciated  by 
most  Germans.  For  the  rest,  her  attitude  toward 
the  usual  English  indoor  and  outdoor  amusements 
is  typical.  It  misleads  the  Englishman  to  the  idea 
that  the  German  is  physically  idle  and  wholly  un- 
sporting— which  is  not  really  the  case.  ''Sport, 
but  not  games!"  is  their  motto,  and  perhaps  they 
are  not  so  far  wrong  after  all.  They  are,  at  any  rate, 
saved  from  the  dangerous  exaggeration  which  is 
threatening  English  athletics,  and,  indeed,  English 
progress. 


CHAPTER  XII 

MANNERS  MAKETH  MAN 

"If  you  are  in  England  and  are  in  any  difficulty  as 
regards  etiquette,  there  is  one  rule  to  which  you  can 
always  trust,"  a  German  lady  once  remarked  to  me : 
"Do  just  the  opposite  to  what  you  would  do  in  any 
other  civilized  country,  and  you  are  bound  to  do 
right." 

I  thought  this  statement  over,  and  confessed  that 
it  was  not  unfounded.  I  admitted  that,  as  in  meas- 
ures, money,  and  laws,  so  in  manners,  we  have  al- 
ways been  the  exceptions;  but  I  hastened  to  add, 
with  true  English  modesty,  that  if  she  considered 
the  matter  she  would  find  that  our  exceptions  were 
usually  wise  and  proper  ones. 

"You  are  like  the  mother  of  a  recruit  who  came 
home  from  a  parade  and  told  her  friends  that  her 
son  was  the  only  man  in  the  regiment  who  had  been 
in  step!"  she  retorted  crushingly.  "Exceptional 
ideas  and  methods  are  by  no  means  always  right, 
and  are  very  often  merely  the  obstinate  endeavors 

225 


226  THE   GERMANS 

of  people  who  are  trying  to  be  original,"  I  pro- 
tested, and  she  thereupon  went  on  with  some  heat 
— it  was  evident  that  she  had  had  some  unpleasant 
experiences  in  England. 

"No  one  would  object  to  your  having  your  own 
ways  of  doing  things,  if  only  you  would  not  insist 
that  they  were  the  only  right  ones.  You  are  per- 
fectly at  liberty  to  eat  as  you  like,  bow  as  you  like, 
visit  as  you  like,  but  please  don't  measure  us  by 
your  standards,  which  we  do  not  even  recognize  as 
standards.'' 

No  doubt  there  was  some  justice  in  her  indignant 
protest.  English  people  have  their  own  particular 
ways,  and  they  have,  in  addition,  the  fond  belief 
that  they  are  the  providentially  appointed  cri- 
terions  in  all  matters  whatsoever,  but  more  espe- 
cially in  the  matter  of  manners,  and  that  therefore 
anybody  who  transgresses  against  their  code  is  of 
necessity  mannerless.  The  German  is  more  just 
and  less  arrogant. 

"If  I  went  to  England  everybody  would  believe 
that  I  was  ill-bred  because  I  do  not  put  my  knife 
and  fork  together  as  you  do,"  one  old  gentleman 
said  to  me;  "but  you  will  observe  that  I  do  not  say 
that  your  men  are  ill-mannered  when  they  go  into 
a  shop  with  their  hats  on,  ignore  my  greeting  at  a 


MANNERS    MAKETH    MAN       227 

hotel  table  d'hote,  shake  my  wife's  hand  pump- 
handle  fashion,  with  possibly  the  other  hand  in 
their  pocket,  and  lift  their  hat  a  fourth  of  an  inch 
when  they  meet  her  on  the  street.  If  they  were 
Germans,  I  should  say  that  they  were  not  gentle- 
men; but  since  they  are  English,  I  say  to  myself 
that  they  have  other  ways,  and  withhold  all  criti- 
cism. But  you  English  only  recognize  one  very 
arbitrary  standard  of  your  own.'' 

Here,  again,  I  think  there  was  some  truth  in  the 
accusation.  Certain  it  is  that  after  a  prolonged 
sojourn  among  the  German  people,  one  discovers 
that  though  they  do  not  conform  to  our  ways  they 
have  a  code  of  their  own  whose  strictness  often 
makes  the  English  fashion  appear  somewhat  slov- 
enly and  disrespectful.  Yet  it  is  extraordinary  how 
narrow-minded  people  can  be  on  this  subject.  I 
know  an  English  lady  who  still  insists  on  it  that 
Germans  are  rude  because  the  men  bow  first,  be- 
cause the  new-comer  has  to  call  first,  because  they 
have  other  and  less  stringent  table  manners.  It  is 
vain  to  argue  with  such  people  that  the  laws  we 
have  made  on  this  point  are  purely  arbitrary,  and 
that  there  is  no  real  reason  why  one  way  of  arrang- 
ing one's  knife  and  fork  is  better  than  another. 
They  hold  to  it  that  Germans  are  "disgusting,"  and 


228  THE    GERMANS 

look  the  other  way  when  they  see  an  Englishman 
bolting  his  food  like  a  starved  wolf.  In  truth,  as 
soon  as  the  traveler  has  cleared  his  mind  of  his 
national  prejudices,  he  must  recognize  the  fact  that 
he  is  no  better  than. his  German  cousin,  and  that  in 
certain  points  he  has  even  something  to  learn. 

Of  course,  it  is  largely  a  matter  of  taste,  and  to  sit 
between  an  Englishman  and  a  German  and  listen 
to  their  opinions  on  the  subject  of  manners,  is  like 
sitting  between  the  Irresistible  and  the  Immovable 
and  being  badly  jolted  in  the  process.  The  Eng- 
lishman thinks  it  ridiculous  when  the  German 
sweeps  his  hat  off  to  the  ground  to  a  masculine  ac- 
quaintance, kisses  a  lady's  hand,  bows  deeply  with 
his  heels  clapped  firmly  together,  shakes  hands 
after  dinner.  ^'Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  stiff 
and  absurd?"  he  asks  you.  On  the  other  side,  the 
German,  though  he  makes  generous  allowances  for 
custom,  finds  the  English  manner  far  too  abrupt 
and  casual.  His  criticism  is  especially  directed 
against  the  Englishman,  and  augments  in  severity 
according  to  his  own  social  position.  ^^The  higher 
the  birth  the  more  ceremonious  the  manners,"  is  a 
safe  rule  to  judge  by.  The  aristocrat  clings  ten- 
aciously to  the  old  forms,  whereas  in  other  classes, 
and,  above  all,  among  the  merchant  and  business 


MANNERS    MAKETH    MAN       229 

people,  there  is  a  tendency  to  pick  up  English  ways 
and  to  throw  off  what  they  call  the  ridiculous  old 
^'Zopfe." 

Perhaps  they  are  ridiculous  for  unaccus- 
tomed eyes,  but  when  they  are  left  out  one  misses 
them,  and  a  German  who  comes  up  and  shakes 
hands  with  me  with  English  freedom  always  gives 
me  a  shock.  It  is  not  that  I  dislike  the  English 
freedom,  but  when  a  German  imitates  it  he  loses 
something  of  his  individuality.  The  average  Ger- 
man, just  as  he  is  a  poetic  dreamer  in  spite  of  his 
practical  abilities,  has  still  among  his  up-to-date 
notions  a  little  of  the  old-world  chivalry,  which 
one  cherishes  greatly  as  the  remnants  from  a  more 
romantic  age.  Between  that  age  and  the  present 
the  aristocrat  forms  the  connecting  link.  He  has 
been  brought  up  on  the  great  past;  his  ancestors, 
his  old  name,  have  been  held  constantly  before  him, 
and  their  influence  extends  over  his  whole  life, 
making  of  his  ideas  and  of  his  manners  a  curious 
mixture  of  the  modern  and  of  the  old-fashioned. 
Moreover,  he  is  brought  up  in  a  severe  school. 
From  his  childish  days  he  has  been  taught  to  stand 
in  his  father's  presence,  to  kiss  his  mother's  hand, 
to  treat  her  and  all  women  with  an  unfailing,  if 
somewhat  formal  courtesy.    He  is  usually  kept  at 


230  THE    GERMANS 

home  until  the  later  years  of  his  boyhood,  and  so 
has  no  opportunity  to  develop  the  rough-and-tum- 
ble manners  of  the  public  school-boy.  This  home 
life  accounts  to  a  great  extent  for  the  ease  and  self- 
possession  with  which  the  average  German  youth 
carries  himself  through  a  social  function.  He  does 
not  stumble  over  his  own  feet,  choke  over  his  tea, 
stammer  when  he  speaks,  or — what  is  worse — main- 
tain a  sulky  silence.  He  is  courteous,  simple,  and 
natural,  without  being  priggish  or  unboyish. 

I  think  this  lack  of  self-consciousness  must  be  a 
part  of  the  German  character,  for  even  boys  who 
have  been  brought  up  away  from  home,  and  who 
scarcely  see  a  woman  from  year's  end  to  year's  end, 
display  a  natural  savoir-faire  on  unusual  occasions 
which  is  surprising.  Thus  I  have  a  pleasant  rec- 
ollection of  an  evening  spent  at  the  Cadet  school 
here,  where  a  dance  was  being  given  in  honor  of 
the  Emperor's  birthday.  There  were  one  hundred 
and  fifty  cadets  present  of  all  sizes  and  of  all  ages, 
from  absurd  little  mites  of  ten  years  old  to  tall 
young  fellows  of  fifteen  and  thereabouts,  who  were 
preparing  to  go  up  to  Grosslichterfelde  for  their 
concluding  years.  I  knew  something  of  their  life, 
and  knew  that  it  was  a  strenuous  Spartan  existence, 
in  which  polish  and  refinement  might  all  too  easily 


MANNERS   MAKETH   MAN        231 

be  forgotten;  but  from  the  mite  of  ten,  who,  with 
a  profound  bow,  engaged  me  for  a  waltz  and  swept 
me  off — perhaps,  more  correctly,  was  swept  off — 
with  great  pride,  to  the  eldest  cadet,  who  never 
allowed  the  conversation  to  flag  an  instant,  they  all 
behaved  with  the  ease  of  complete  self-forgetful- 
ness.  They  were  sincerely  glad  to  dance  with  you, 
sincerely  grateful  that  you  had  come,  sincerely 
anxious  to  please.  There  was  no  affectation  or  con- 
ceit about  them;  their  conversation  was  all  that  a 
boy's  should  be — a  vivid  description  of  a  rat-hunt 
remains  in  my  memory — and  behind  their  courtly 
manners,  their  little  formalities,  there  was  a  heart 
politeness,  a  simplicity  of  character,  which  took 
away  all  stiffness  from  the  formality  and  made 
it  a  living  courtesy.  I  hereby  admit,  without  more 
ado,  that  I  find  German  manners  charming. 

Perhaps  I  am  accustomed  to  them,  perhaps  I 
have  grown  to  understand  the  character  which  is 
their  source.  I  like  the  courteous  greeting  which 
strangers  exchange  when  chance  brings  them  to- 
gether. No  matter  whether  you  meet  a  German  in 
a  railway  carriage,  in  a  consulting-room,  or  at  a 
table  d'hote,  he  will  always  greet  you,  and  there  is 
something  in  this  recognition  of  your  existence,  in 
this  tacit  acknowledgment  that  you  are  a  human  be- 


232  THE    GERMANS 

ing  like  himself,  which  gives  the  "Universal  Bro- 
therhood of  Man"  a  touch  of  reality.  These  little 
touches,  these  little  formalities — peculiar,  I  must 
observe,  to  the  South  German — are  the  more  pleas- 
ing because  they  are  the  sincere  expression  of  a  sin- 
cere feeling.  One  has  to  learn  to  believe  in  this 
sincerity.  When  I  first  came  to  Germany  I  thought 
the  courtly  attention  which  men  showed  to  women, 
the  hand-kissing,  bowing,  and  so  on,  a  hollow 
mockery,  a  kind  of  sweetmeat  offered  instead  of  a 
genuine  respect,  but  since  then  I  have  learned  to 
think  differently.  The  German  has  not  only  been 
taught  the  outer  courtesies,  but  he  has  been  born 
with  a  kindness  of  heart  and  instinctive  considera- 
tion for  others  which  makes  them  of  real  value. 
The  man  who  appears  to  have  a  fund  of  "small 
change"  and  valueless  attentions,  is  the  same  man 
who  will  go  miles  out  of  his  way  for  you  to-mor- 
row. 

English  people  are  so  accustomed  to  look  upon 
a  certain  brusquerie  as  a  sign  of  sincerity,  and 
a  high  degree  of  polish  as  a  sign  of  humbug,  that  it 
is  very  difficult,  even  after  many  years,  to  get  ac- 
customed to  the  German  fashion.  Only  a  few 
weeks  ago  I  was  traveling  in  the  same  tram  with  a 
young  lieutenant,  whose  smooth  and  graceful  man- 


MANNERS   MAKETH   MAN        233 

ners  had  more  than  once  aroused  suspicion  in  my 
English  soul.  He  was  got  up  in  his  newest  and 
finest  uniform — we  were  both  on  our  way  to  a  mili- 
tary funeral,  I  remember — he  had  on  spotless  white 
kid  gloves,  an  eye-glass  thrust  in  his  eye ;  he  looked, 
in  fact,  the  veriest  dandy,  who  would  not  have 
soiled  himself  to  save  a  life.  The  tram  was  very 
full,  and  presently  an  old  peasant  fellow  came  in 
with  his  basket  of  vegetables  and  looked  about 
helplessly,  treading  on  everybody's  toes  in  the 
meantime.  I  looked  on  my  military  acquaintance 
and  waited  for  the  storm.  The  dandy  rose,  saluted 
gravely,  offered  the  old  peasant  his  seat,  and  went 
and  stood  outside.  If  there  is  anything  in  thought 
telegraphy,  that  young  officer  must  have  heard  me 
apologizing  to  him  all  the  rest  of  our  journey  to- 
gether. This  is  only  one  example  of  the  many 
which  I  will  not  cite,  for  fear  of  being  unneces- 
sarily tiresome.  I  only  assert  that  you  can  enjoy 
German  courtesy  with  an  easy  mind — it  is  genuine. 
Hitherto  I  have  spoken  chiefly  of  the  aristocratic 
classes;  the  bourgeois  is  not  less  courteous,  he  is 
only  a  shade  less  polished.  Being  bound  by  no 
tradition,  his  manners  vary  with  every  family. 
Some  are  inclined  to  be  too  "devot,"  too  persistent 
with  their  bob-curtsies  and  hand-kissing,  others  too 


234  THE    GERMANS 

negligent,  but  one  feature  is  common  to  them  all, 
and  indeed  to  all  Germans — the  respect  and  defer- 
ence with  which  older  people  are  treated.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  pleasing  features  of  German  life. 

Although  from  what  I  have  seen  I  believe  the 
relations  between  parents  and  children  to  be  far 
smoother  in  Germany  than  in  England,  one  hears 
nothing  of  the  careless  and  sometimes  disrespectful 
conduct  which  shocks  the  German  on  his  visit  to 
my  country.  German  people  know  that  intimacy 
breeds  contempt,  and  that  from  the  moment  out- 
ward courtesies  and  attentions  are  neglected  all  true 
respect  is  at  an  end^  and  they  take  care,  therefore, 
that  courtesy  shall  be  an  indispensable  ingredient 
in  their  children's  attitude  toward  themselves  and 
others.  Thus  a  German  girl  in  the  presence  of  her 
elder  is  nevei  clumsy,  rude,  or  abrupt.  She  is  al- 
ways at  hand  with  some  little  attention  or  kindness, 
and  though  one  may  laugh  at  her  "Knix,"  one  can 
not  but  admire  the  education  which  has  taught  her 
so  much  respect  and  consideration  for  others. 

Fortunately,  it  is  not  all  education.  If  you  go 
among  the  lower  classes  you  will  find  the  same 
good-nature,  the  same  willingness  to  oblige,  the 
same  refinement  of  feeling,  which  is  the  root  of  all 
German  politeness.  No  South  German  peasant  will 


MANNERS   MAKETH   MAN        235 

pass  you  on  the  road  without  his  "Tag!"  or  "Griiss 
Gott!"  and  here  again  the  ceremonial  covers  a  gen- 
uine friendliness.  It  has  been  more  than  once  my 
fate  during  long  bicycling  tours  to  find  myself 
stranded  on  the  wayside  with  a  punctured  tire  or  a 
damaged  gear-case,  and  on  each  occasion  a  laborer 
has  left  his  work  and  planted  himself  down  to  the 
repair  with  an  energy  and  patience  which  atoned 
for  all  lack  of  skill.  One  young  yokel  even  rode  to 
the  neighboring  town  to  buy  a  new  inner  tire  for 
me,  and  as  the  latter  had  exhausted  my  funds  I 
could  offer  him  nothing  for  a  reward  but  my  prom- 
ise that  if  he  would  give  me  his  address  he  would 
hear  of  "something  to  his  advantage."  He  shook 
his  head  with  cheery  good-nature. 

"Ach,  was,  das  macht  nichts,  Fraulein,"  he  said 
as  he  went  off;  "das  macht  nichts!" 

So  I  have  always  found  the  German,  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest,  kindly,  willing,  considerate. 
Even  the  servants  are  polite.  If  they  have  not  been 
deliberately  brought  up  to  be  familiar  by  the 
familiarity  of  their  mistress,  they  are  usually  very 
respectful,  and  in  the  worst  case  look  upon  them- 
selves as  members  of  the  family.  Certainly  they 
do  not  look  down  upon  you  as  inferior  beings  whom 
Providence  has  entrusted  to   their  good-natured 


236  THE    GERMANS 

care  and  pity.  As  I  have  said,  one  class  is  more 
polished  than  another,  one  class  more  for  formality, 
one  class  possessed  with  a  foolish  craze  for  foreign 
ways,  but  at  the  bottom  they  are  all  the  same.  They 
are  all  actuated  by  the  same  extreme  sensitiveness 
as  regards  their  own  and  other  people's  feelings. 
Hence  they  are  always  warmly  grateful  for  the 
smallest  kindnesses,  always  enthusiastic,  always 
careful  with  their  criticism,  always  considerate  for 
the  weak  spots  in  others.  They  do  as  they  would  be 
done  by.  It  may  be  that  they  carry  their  form  of 
politeness  too  far,  praising  and  admiring  and 
thanking  to  an  exaggerated  degree,  which  the  Eng- 
lishman understands  as  little  as  the  German  un- 
derstands his  reserve  and  coldness.  But  it  is  an 
unconscious  error.  They  do  not  mean  to  flatter  or 
to  say  more  or  less  than  is  true,  they  simply  shrink 
instinctively  from  saying  what  they  themselves 
would  not  care  to  hear. 

Naturally  there  are  rude  and  disagreeable  Ger- 
mans— it  has  not  been  my  fate  to  meet  them,  al- 
though I  have  no  doubt  they  exist,  since  no  nation 
is  perfect — but  the  average  German  neither  eats 
with  his  knife,  nor  pushes  you  off  the  pavement, 
nor  treads  on  your  toes  actually  or  figuratively, 
nor    helps    himself    to    the    best    of    everything 


MANNERS   MAKETH   MAN        237 

going.  He  is,  in  the  first  place,  far  too  good- 
natured;  and,  in  the  second,  usually  indifferent  to 
outward  matters,  he  lays  great  stress  on  his  code  of 
manners.  It  is  not  our  code,  and  like  every  code — 
even  our  own — it  has  its  absurdities,  its  failings, 
and  its  many  contradictions.  On  the  one  side  you 
will  often  find  formality  confronted  with  a  certain 
informality,  a  certain  abruptness,  which  startles 
you,  and  then  absurdities  which  will  amuse  you  un- 
til you  have  got  accustomed  to  them.  There  is,  for 
instance,  no  particular  reason  why  the  center  of 
the  sofa  should  be  the  place  of  honor  for  the  visitor 
— on  the  contrary,  I  have  always  found  the  sofa 
most  uncomfortable;  but  then  there  is  no  reason 
why  it  should  be  more  well-bred  to  put  one's  knife 
and  fork  together  when  finished  than  to  leave  them 
in  any  other  position.  On  such  trivial  points  it  is 
only  a  matter  of  taste  and  custom,  and  he  who  can 
not  get  over  such  little  differences  had  better  stay 
at  his  native  hearth.  Where  genuine  heart  polite- 
ness and  good  breeding  is  concerned,  the  German  is 
equal  to  the  best,  and  if  his  sensitiveness  is  respected 
there  is  no  pleasanter  person  in  the  world  to  live 
with,  no  one  more  kindly  or  more  courteous.  Only 
it  is  not  wise  to  laugh  at  his  ways  simply  because 
they  are  different  to  what  one  is  accustomed  to.  It 


238  THE    GERMANS 

is  always  irritating  to  be  laughed  at,  and  it  prevents 
all  true  understanding  and  appreciation.  With  a 
little  sympathy  it  is  easy  to  get  accustomed  to  the 
unaccustomed,  and  to  find  its  meaning.  For  there 
is  always  a  meaning  if  one  chooses  to  look  for  it, 
and  the  German  meaning  is  sure  to  be  like  himself, 
good  and  kindly,  with  a  dash  of  the  chevaleresque 
and  the  poetic  about  it  to  relieve  it  from  the  dull 
gray  of  our  prosaic  modern  life. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER 

In  my  German  year  there  are  many  marriages,  and 
if  there  is  one  thing  more  than  another  which  re- 
minds me  that  the  German  years  are  passing,  it  is 
the  way  in  which  young  Backfische,  with  their  hair 
coiled  in  neat  plaits  over  their  ears,  develop  sud- 
denly into  young  ladies,  and  then  with  equal  sud- 
denness bestow  upon  you  a  huge  double  sheet  of 
printed  paper,  on  one  side  of  which  Herr  S.  (title) 
and  Frau  S.  {nee  Z.)  give  themselves  the  honor  of 
announcing  the  betrothal  of  their  daughter  Elsa 
with  Herr  K.  (title),  and  on  the  other  side  of 
which  Herr  K.  gives  himself  the  honor  of  announc- 
ing his  betrothal  with  Elsa,  daughter  of  Herr  S. 
(title)  and  Frau  S.  {riee  Z.).  You  then  open  your 
eyes,  murmur  'Taney,"  send  round  the  customary 
bouquet  of  flowers  to  the  bride,  and  put  the  matter 
out  of  your  mind  for  the  year  or  six  months,  during 
which  time  the  couple  must  wait  in  patience ;  or  if 
you  remember  the  happy  event,  it  will  only  be 
when  you  meet  them  on  the  street  arm  in  arm,  the 

239 


240  THE    GERMANS 

picture  of  Gemiitlichkeit,  and  openly  acknowl- 
edged devotion.  Sometimes  your  surprise  over 
certain  engagements  appears  really  justified.  As 
I  have  said  before,  a  girl  in  Germany  must  be  a 
deformity  and  a  pauper  combined,  not  to  be  able  to 
find  a  husband  if  she  wants  to;  and  more  than  once 
I  have  been  bewildered  by  the  brilliant  matches 
which  the  most  dowdy  and  impossible-looking 
have  been  able  to  bring  about  under  their  mother's 
skilful  generalship.  For  the  men  in  Germany  do 
not  marry — they  are  married;  they  are  more  or  less 
passive  articles  of  sale,  which  stand  in  rows  in  the 
matrimonial  shop-window  with  their  price  labeled 
in  large  letters  in  their  buttonhole,  waiting  pa- 
tiently for  a  purchaser.  They  are  perfectly  will- 
ing, even  eager,  victims ;  they  want  to  be  bought, 
but  their  position  does  not  allow  them  to  grasp  the 
initiative,  and  they  are  thankful  when  at  last  some 
one  comes  along  and  declares  herself  capable  and 
willing  to  pay  the  price.  This  may  seem  exag- 
gerated, and  there  are  always  the  exceptions  to  be 
reckoned  with,  but  it  is  true  in  the  rule,  and  in 
every  social  circle,  however  low  or  high.  The  girl 
and  her  mother,  with  their  purse  in  hand,  pass  the 
articles  in  review,  and  choose  out  the  one  which 
best  suits  their  means  and  fancy. 


eopvmoMT,  ov  oxoeiiwooo  i  unoenwooo, 


Charlemagne's  Cathedral,  south  side,  where  thirty-five  German  Emperors 
were  crowned,  Aix-la-Chapelle 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER    241 

"I  shall  marry  an  officer,"  one  girl  told  me  some 
time  ago,  with  the  easy  confidence  of  a  person  about 
to  order  a  new  dress ;  and  lo  and  behold,  before  the 
year  was  out  she  was  walking  proudly  on  the  arm 
of  a  dragoon  lieutenant.  I  even  know  of  three 
women  who  swore  to  each  other  that  they  would 
only  marry  geniuses,  and  here  also  they  had  their 
will.  One  married  a  great  painter,  one  a  poet,  and 
another  a  famous  diplomatist.  That  they  were  all 
three  peculiarly  unhappy  is  not  a  witness  against 
the  system,  but  a  proof  that  geniuses  may — occa- 
sionally— be  very  uncomfortable  partners.  In  this 
case  the  purchasers  were  rich  and  what  is  called 
"gefeiette  Madchen" — that  is  to  say,  popular — and 
could  therefore  make  their  choice.  Others  of  les- 
ser means  would  have  had  to  content  themselves 
with  an  officer,  cavalry  or  infantry,  according  to 
the  "dot" — or  a  lawyer,  or  a  doctor,  or  a  merchant, 
and  so  on  down  the  scale.  A  pretty  and  charming 
girl  can  find  her  partner  without  any  other  per- 
quisites than  her  face  and  her  charms,  but  her 
choice  becomes  at  once  more  limited,  for  the  men 
who  can  afford  to  marry  a  penniless  wife  are  too 
few  in  number  and  too  scattered. 

Hence  marriages  in  Germany  usually  have  a 
practical  side,  though  they  in  no  way  resemble  the 


242  THE    GERMANS 

French  mariages  de  convenance,  A  young  man  in 
the  marriageable  age — in  Germany  from  twenty- 
three  to  thirty-five — is  rarely  in  a  position  to  set  up 
housekeeping  unless  he  receives  support  either 
from  his  own  father  or  from  the  family  of  his  wife. 
Should  he  have  chosen  a  state  or  professional  ca- 
reer, his  income  will  not  be  sufficient  until  he  is  at 
least  thirty-three,  and  an  unmarried  man  of  thirty- 
three  in  Germany  is  a  man  who  has  been  a  consider- 
able time  on  the  shelf.  The  officer  is  even  worse 
off.  At  no  time  in  his  life  is  he  in  the  position  to 
support  a  family  on  his  pay  alone.  All  the  support 
he  gets  from  home  is  needed  to  fill  up  the  gaps  in 
his  own  personal  existence,  and  only  one  man  in  a 
hundred  is  able  to  put  the  financial  side  of  the  ques- 
tion entirely  out  of  sight.  It  is  not  that  the  Ger- 
man is  a  fortune-hunter — he  simply  can  not  help 
himself. 

I  know  one  lieutenant  who  was  desperately  at- 
tached to  a  girl  belonging  to  an  aristocratic  but  im- 
poverished family.  As  is  usual,  he  went  first  to  the 
parents  to  ask  their  permission  to  propose  to  her — 
or  rather  to  ask  if  they  could  afford  him  as  a  son- 
in-law.  They  named  a  yearly  allowance  which  he 
knew  to  be  insufficient,  and  he  immediately  retired 
without  ever  speaking  to  the  object  of  his  hopes.  In 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER    243 

another  similar  case  the  girl's  family  offered  to 
make  every  possible  sacrifice  in  order  to  give  her 
the  husband  she  wished  for,  but  this  time  it  was  the 
girl  who  refused  to  buy  her  happiness  at  so  high  a 
price.  In  both  instances,  neither  of  the  parties  have 
married,  though  they  could  have  made  brilliant 
matches  had  they  wished  it. 

Even  young  men  of  well-to-do  families  are 
scarcely  ever  able  to  marry  without  the  financial 
support  of  their  wives'  people.  The  reason  is  clear 
and  perfectly  just.  We  will  suppose  a  father  with 
moderate  means  with  a  family  of  two  daughters  and 
a  son.  He  takes  from  his  fortune  a  certain  sum — as 
much  as  he  can  afford — and  divides  it  equally  into 
three  parts.  The  ordinary  education  of  his  chil- 
dren is  now  at  an  end.  He  takes  the  son's  share  of 
the  money  and  spends  it  on  his  maintenance  and 
training  during  the  long  years  which  must  pass  be- 
fore a  professional  man  becomes  self-supporting. 
Should  the  son  come  to  him  during  his  apprentice- 
ship with  the  plea  that  he  wishes  to  marry,  he  at 
once  asks  who  the  girl  is,  and  if  her  family  is  in  a 
position  to  support  the  new  menage.  The  reply 
being  in  the  negative,  the  father  produces  his  son's 
educational  bills  and  lays  them  before  him,  with 
the  remark: 


244  THE    GERMANS 

"This  represents  your  share  of  my  wealth ;  what 
remains  belongs  to  your  sisters." 

Should  the  sisters — as  sometimes  happens — 
choose  to  spend  their  dowry  in  a  continuation  of 
their  education,  they  are  usually  at  liberty  to  do 
so,  but  unless  the  family  be  very  wealthy,  they  must 
expect  no  more  help  when  the  marriage  question 
appears  on  the  horizon.  As  a  rule,  however,  the 
girl  who  wants  to  marry  stays  at  home  and  reserves 
her  share,  so  that  when  the  right  man  comes  she 
will  be  able  to  marry  him.  At  first  sight  this  system 
has  an  ugly  look,  and  suggests  nothing  but  the  most 
distasteful  mariages  de  convenance.  One  imagines 
young  men  up  to  their  necks  in  debt  pursuing  every 
rich  heiress  that  crosses  their  path;  one  imagines 
the  sad  plight  of  a  girl  who  feels  that  the  man  she 
loves  is  at  the  bottom  only  seeking  her  money;  but, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  conditions  exist  no  more  in 
Germany  than  in  England. 

"I  can  not  marry  a  wife  without  money,  but  I 
will  not  marry  her  for  her  money,"  is  the  clear  and 
definite  standpoint  of  most  German  men,  and  they 
prove  their  sincerity.  A  short  time  ago  Karlsruhe 
society  was  adorned  by  a  very  rich  but  unattractive 
daughter  of  a  very  obviously  self-made  man.  It 
was  clear  that  she  was  "doing  the  season"  with  the 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER    245 

idea  of  picking  up  some  penniless  young  noble  or 
officer,  and  indeed  one  would  have  supposed  the 
temptation  irresistible.  The  mother  of  an  officer, 
renowned  for  his  pecuniary  difficulties,  hinted 
gently  that  this  was  the  opportunity  of  his  life,  and 
that  he  should  make  haste  before  this  goldfish  was 
caught  by  some  more  enterprising  fisher.  Her  son 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"We  may  want  money  badly  enough,"  he  said, 
"but  there  are  some  things  we  can't  swallow.  There 
isn't  one  of  us  who  would  marry  Fraulein  R.  just 
for  her  money's  sake." 

Such  indeed  proved  to  be  the  case.  Fraulein  R. 
returned  to  her  home  without  her  noble  fiance,  and 
had  to  content  herself  with  a  husband  of  her  own 
origin.  Had  she  been  other  than  she  was,  cultured, 
intelligent,  or  lovable,  she  would  have  had  the 
whole  eligible  contingent  at  her  feet,  but  her  money 
alone  was  not  sufficient  attraction — not  even  for  the 
most  desperate  fortune-hunter. 

"Das  Herz  muss  auch  mitsprechen,"  as  one  of 
the  latter  informed  an  elderly  and  motherly  friend. 

The  explanation  for  this  phenomenon  is  to  be 
found  in  the  German  temperament.  The  average 
Teuton  loves  his  home,  and  his  greatest  ambition  is 
to  build  up  a  family  in  whose  bosom  he  can  always 


246  THE    GERMANS 

find  comfort,  support,  and  love.  A  gilded  domes- 
tic misery  is  not  to  his  taste.  He  is  too  easy-going, 
too  indifferent  to  luxury,  too  much  of  a  Gemiits- 
mensch  to  sacrifice  his  ideals  for  the  sake  of  wealth 
and  splendor.  If  he  can  have  a  grand  house  and 
horses  and  carriages,  as  well  as  the  woman  of  his 
choice,  so  much  the  better,  but  the  house  and  all  the 
pertaining  luxuries  are  secondary  considerations. 
If  he  can  afford  to  live  in  moderate  comfort — very 
moderate  for  our  ideas — he  is  equally  happy.  That 
is  all  he  asks  of  life,  or  rather  of  his  wife's  parents. 
No  doubt  money  gilds  over  many  defects,  and  the 
wealthy,  less  attractive  girl  in  Germany  has  more 
chance  than  her  poorer,  more  attractive  sister,  but 
her  money  is  not  irresistible,  and  if  she  chooses  a 
man  who  takes  her  solely  for  her  wealth  it  is  en- 
tirely her  own  fault.  Sometimes  her  fortune  is  the 
primary  attraction — the  gild  is  there — but  she  will 
always  be  able  to  find  a  suitor  who  will  do  his 
utmost  to  fall  genuinely  in  love  with  her,  and  who 
genuinely  succeeds.  A  loveless  marriage  in  Ger- 
many is  the  exception,  and  the  exception  is  de- 
spised. As  a  rule,  a  match  is  made  up  of  real 
affection  and  a  moderate  portion  of  practical  con- 
siderations. 

The  financial  side  of  the  case  explains  the  custom 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER     247 

of  first  appealing  to  the  parents  before  speaking  to 
the  girl.  Naturally  the  girl  knows  well  enough 
whither  matters  are  tending,  but  no  doubt  she  suf- 
fers many  anxious  moments  of  suspense.  An  amus- 
ing illustration  recurs  to  me  as  I  write,  relating  to 
a  young  pair  whom  the  world  had  for  a  long  time 
looked  upon  as  ^'settled."  They  were  always 
together,  his  attentions  were  very  obviously  inten- 
tions, but  somehow  or  other  he  never — as  it  is  vul- 
garly described — came  to  the  point.  The  girl  was 
distracted  with  uncertainty,  until  one  day  her  par- 
ents returned  from  America  after  a  long  voyage. 
The  same  hour  that  they  landed  in  Bremen  the 
young  cavalier  packed  his  trunks  and  went  to  meet 
them,  received  their  blessing — and  the  promise  of 
the  dowry — returned  by  the  next  train,  and  laid  his 
hand  and  heart  at  his  Penelope's  feet.  Whereupon 
she  flung  herself  into  his  arms  with  the  exclamation, 
"Endlich,  du  Sheusal!"  ("At  last,  you  horror!") 
Which  form  of  acceptance,  if  unusual,  was  dis- 
tinctly satisfactory. 

I  said  at  the  beginning  of  the  chapter  that  the 
men  were  more  married  than  marrying,  and  I  have 
based  this  conclusion  on  my  observations  and  on  a 
remark  which  a  German  lady  once  made  to  me. 

"An  average  girl  can  always  get  the  man  she 


248  THE   GERMANS 

wants,"  she  said,  ''as  long  as  she  does  not  want 
something  too  grand  or  too  expensive." 

I  think  she  was  right.  We  will  take  the  case  of 
a  Fraulein  S.,  the  daughter  of  a  lawyer  of  good 
standing  and  moderate  means.  In  her  particular 
social  circle  she  is  not  likely  to  meet  any  one  beyond 
her  reach.  The  young  barristers  who  are  invited  to 
her  father's  house  are  all  more  or  less  eligible  suit- 
ors, and  she  needs  only  to  make  her  choice  and  her 
mother  does  the  rest.  Dinner  parties,  tennis  parties, 
dances,  picnics,  etc. — they  are  all  means  to  an  end. 
With  the  slightest  encouragement  on  the  girl's  part 
matters  march  rapidly  forward.  Twenty  years  ago 
a  young  couple  were  never  left  an  instant  to  them- 
selves until  they  were  actually  married.  Nowa- 
days the  painful  etiquette  has  been  relaxed,  and  the 
task  of  marrying  thereby  simplified.  With  a  tennis 
racket  in  her  hand,  Fraulein  S.  is  at  liberty  to  wan- 
der in  a  solitude  a  deux  through  the  loneliest  parts 
of  the  forest  without  any  one  being  shocked  or  sur- 
prised. She  can  even  go  for  days  up  into  the 
mountains  for  sport  without  a  chaperon,  and  how 
many  matches  ski-tours  have  brought  about  I 
should  not  like  to  say.  The  ball-room,  in  fact,  has 
sunk  out  of  sight  as  a  matrimonial  market.  In  the 
first  place,  it  is  bad  form  to  dance  more  than  twice 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER     249 

with  the  sam'e  girl  unless  one  is  engaged;  in  the 
second  place,  sitting-out  corners  are  unknown,  so 
that  the  young  man  naturally  feels  that  his  chances 
are  better  out  of  doors,  where  his  preference  is  not 
observed  by  a  dozen  pairs  of  sharp  watching  eyes. 

Matters  having  reached  a  certain  point,  he 
puts  on  his  top-hat  and  frock-coat  and  calls  on 
Fraulein  S.'s  father.  He  explains  his  prospects, 
and  the  father  explains  his  daughter's.  Should 
both  parties  be  satisfied  the  candidate  proceeds  on 
the  path  of  victory  in  the  usual  way,  and  the  huge 
notices  are  sent  round  to  all  friends  and  relations 
announcing  the  unlooked-for  event.  Once  en- 
gaged, the-  young  couple  are  free  to  do  very  much 
what  they  like,  so  long  as  they  do  it  together.  One 
meets  them  arm-in-arm  at  all  times  and  at  all  places 
and  without  a  chaperon,  but  it  is  considered  bad 
form  for  the  girl  to  attend  any  sociabilities  without 
her  fiance,  and  vice  versa.  If  friends  give  a  dance 
or  a  party,  they  have  to  invite  both  or  neither — they 
must  not  and  will  not  be  separated.  In  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  events,  however,  the  girl  drops  out 
of  public  life  during  her  engagement.  She  has  so 
much  to  do  and  prepare  that  she  has  very  little 
time  for  the  amusements  with  which  her  disen- 
gaged sisters  still  occupy  themselves.    Even  if  she 


250  THE    GERMANS 

is  well-to-do,  and  can  afford  to  have* her  trousseau 
made  for  her,  there  are  still  a  great  many  things 
which  she  prefers  to  make  or  superintend  herself. 

The  trousseau,  may  it  be  said  en  passant,  does  not 
consist  of  a  hundred  pairs  of  everything,  as  a  mis- 
guided English  lady  once  informed  me.  She  ex- 
plained the  terrific  number  by  the  fact  ( !)  that 
German  people  only  send  their  clothes  to  the  wash 
twice  in  the  year,  and  must  therefore  have  a  large 
stock  to  keep  them  going  in  the  meanwhile.  This 
may  have  been  the  case  fifty  years  ago,  but  in  fifty 
years  quite  a  number  of  things  change,  and,  as  far 
as  I  have  seen,  German  people  either  manage  the 
regular  and  normal  weekly  wash  themselves,  or 
send  their  things  in  the  English  fashion  to  the  laun- 
dryman,  at  whom  they  grumble  in  a  fashion  alto- 
gether international.  Hence  the  bride's  trousseau 
is  quite  a  normal,  if  elaborate,  one,  for  where  lin- 
gerie is  concerned  the  German  woman  is  fastidious 
to  a  degree.  It  must  be  added,  too,  that  she  brings 
with  her,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  whole  house- 
hold equipment.  The  linen,  furniture,  cooking 
utensils — in  fact,  everything  that  is  required  for 
the  new  home — is  supplied  by  the  bride,  or  rather 
by  her  parents,  and  it  is  this  part  of  the  dot  which 
falls  heaviest  on  the  paternal  shoulders. 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER     251 

I  have  known  families  who  denied  themselves 
real  necessities  in  order  that  the  marrying  daughter 
might  start  life  fittingly.  Sometimes  the  result  is 
tragic.  I  know,  for  instance,  a  widowed  mother 
whose  daughter  became  engaged  to  a  reputed  mil- 
lionaire. Too  proud  to  let  her  child  enter  such 
brilliant  conditions  in  a  poor  and  humble  style,  the 
mother  spent  the  last  penny  of  her  fortune  on  the 
new  home.  A  year  later  the  millionaire  was  a 
bankrupt,  and  the  old  mother  had  to  go  out  as  a 
companion  in  order  to  keep  husband  and  wife  from 
actual  starvation.  Such  catastrophes  are  all  too 
frequent  and  all  too  inevitable  in  a  country  where 
family  ties  are  so  close,  and  the  sacrifices  demanded 
and  made  are  so  great.  Perhaps  sacrifice  is  not  the 
word — the  German  looks  upon  everything  done  for 
the  family  as  a  simple  duty. 

But  to  return  to  Fraulein  S.  and  her  prepara- 
tions, which  we  will  suppose  have  been  completed 
without  causing  too  heavy  a  drain  on  the  paternal 
purse.  At  last  dawns  the  marriage  itself.  The 
night  beforehand  is  the  Polter  Abend,  when  all  re- 
lations and  friends  are  invited  to  a  last  grand 
merrymaking,  in  which  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
play  the  leading  part.  Dancing,  amateur  theatri- 
cals, little  entertainments    (usually  with  pointed 


252  THE    GERMANS 

reference  to  the  engagement  and  pre-engagement 
days)  fill  up  the  evening  hours.  It  is  then  that  the 
chief  presents  are  given,  and  it  becomes  the  duty  of 
the  first  of  the  three  bridesmaids  to  present  the 
bride  with  her  myrtle-wreath — orange  blossom  is 
only  used  by  the  lower  classes — while  the  second 
hands  her  the  veil,  and  the  third  the  handkerchief. 

In  the  Rhine  provinces  there  are  only  two  brides- 
maids, who  escort  the  bridegroom  to  the  altar, 
while  the  ^'best  men"  act  as  guard  of  honor 
to  the  bride,  but  this  is  a  local  custom,  and 
in  South  Germany  it  is  usual  to  have  three 
bridesmaids  who,  however,  are  not  required 
to  wear  any  particular  costume.  The  Polter 
Abend  is  a  remnant  of  the  old  custom  of 
celebrating  a  wedding  a  week  beforehand  and  a 
week  afterward — a  business  which,  no  doubt, 
proved  too  expensive  and  too  exhausting.  As  it  is, 
it  adds  considerably  to  the  burden.  I  suppose  in 
every  country  a  wedding  is  a  more  or  less  trying 
business — especially  for  the  bride;  and  in  Ger- 
many, what  with  the  Polter  Abend  and  the  actual 
ceremony,  one  would  suppose  that  she  would  re- 
quire a  rest-cure  at  a  sanatorium  to  get  over  it. 

In  the  first  place  there  are  two  ceremonies 
through  which  she  must  pass  before  the  bond  is 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER    253 

legal — the  civil  and  the  ecclesiastical.  The  latter 
can  be  omitted,  but  the  better  classes  keep  to  it  if 
only  because  it  is  considered  good  form.  At  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  morning  the  bride  is  fetched  by  the 
bridegroom,  and  in  company  with  her  masculine 
relations  repairs  to  the  town  hall,  where  the  civil 
ceremony  is  performed.  On  her  return  home  the 
bride  is  hurried  into  her  wedding-dress,  is  once 
more  fetched  by  the  bridegroom,  and  the  whole 
clan  of  relations  and  friends  proceed  to  the  church. 
The  costumes  on  this  occasion  strike  the  English 
eye  as  unusual.  The  men  are  in  evening  dress,  ex- 
cept for  those  who  have  the  right  to  wear  a  uni- 
form, and  who,  of  course,  wear  it.  The  feminine 
part  of  the  congregation  is  at  its  smartest  and  finest, 
but  there  is  no  uniformity  among  the  bridesmaids, 
who  dress  as  suits  them  or  their  taste.  The  bride 
and  bridegroom  go  to  the  altar  together,  and  the 
ceremony,  which  is  in  all  cases  very  simple,  then 
proceeds.  In  Germany  not  only  the  woman  but  the 
man  acknowledges  his  married  state  by  a  wedding- 
ring.  The  two  rings  are  given  to  the  bride  and  the 
bridegroom  by  the  clergyman,  but  neither  are  new, 
having  previously  served  as  engagement  tokens 
worn  on  the  third  finger  of  the  left  hand,  and  after- 
wards transferred  to  the  right  hand.    A  short  ser- 


254  THE   GERMANS 

mon  follows,  delivered  from  the  altar,  and  ad- 
dressed directly  to  the  married  pair.  The  text  has 
been  previously  chosen  by  the  bride  and  bride- 
groom, and  is  afterward  written  in  the  Bible 
which  is  presented  to  them  by  the  clergyman,  no 
matter  how  rich  or  poor  they  may  be. 

After  the  actual  wedding  the  whole  party  returns 
to  the  bride's  house,  and  then  begins  a  festive  meal 
which  puts  the  German's  powers  of  stoic,  cheerful 
endurance  to  the  test.  It  is  a  mighty  meal,  an  awe- 
inspiring  meal,  a  really  awful  meal.  The  clergy- 
man— if  he  has  not  found  a  legitimate  excuse  for 
escaping — sits  between  the  bride  and  bridegroom, 
and  makes  a  speech  in  their  honor.  Then  the 
father  of  the  bridegroom  makes  a  speech  in  honor 
of  the  bride's  family,  and  the  father  of  the  bride 
makes  a  speech  in  honor  of  the  bridegroom's  fam- 
ily, and  then  come  the  guests,  the  ladies,  everybody 
en  fin,  till  there  is  nothing  left  to  toast  except  the 
wine  itself.  All  this  takes  some  hours — usually 
from  three  to  seven — but  no  one  shows  any  sign  of 
fatigue,  and  the  "Stimmung"  rises  from  degree  to 
degree,  especially  after  the  pointedly  ignored  de- 
parture of  the  bride  and  bridegroom.  The  evening 
is  concluded  with  a  dance,  and  if  many  guests  are 
staying  in  the  house,  and  the  bride's  mother  has 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER    255 

enough  strength  left,  there  is  what  is  called  a 
*^Nach-Hochzeit,"  a  second  festivity  the  day  after- 
ward. Thus  a  German  wedding  in  the  well-to-do 
circles  is  a  mighty  affair,  and  keeps  the  families  of 
the  contracting  parties  in  close  association  for 
nearly  a  week.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that, 
what  with  the  length  of  time  and  the  general  matri- 
monial "atmosphere,"  the  saying  that  one  wedding 
begets  another  is  peculiarly  true  in  Germany. 

Among  the  lower  classes  weddings  and  funerals 
form  the  chief  events  of  life,  and  both  are  very 
serious  affairs.  In  earlier  days  it  was  the  custom 
among  the  peasants  for  a  specially  appointed  Jew 
to  act  as  go-between  among  the  families,  and  ar- 
range for  suitable  marriages  and  doweries,  picking 
up  a  nice  little  percentage  for  himself  by  the  way. 
Nowadays  his  expensive  services  are  dispensed 
with,  and  the  peasant  manages  his  business  by  him- 
self. But  it  is  a  business,  and  the  financial  side  of 
the  question  plays  a  very  serious  part.  We  have  at 
present  two  servants  in  the  house  who  are  on  the  eve 
of  engagement  with  two  soldier  "friends" — Lands- 
manner  from  their  own  village — but  there  is  a  de- 
lay, for  which  we  are  only  too  thankful,  because 
neither  of  the  girls  has  saved  sufficient  to  start  the 
housekeeping.     Nobody  expects  the  man  to  have 


256  THE    GERMANS 

saved  anything,  but  a  servant  girl  who  has  not  her 
fifty  pounds  in  the  bank  is  not  considered  possible, 
however  devoted  her  suitor  may  be.  He  will  be 
quite  prepared  to  wait,  and  he  will  be  faithful  to 
her,  but  the  money  must  be  there  before  anything 
definite  is  settled.  Perhaps  he  is  right.  At  any 
rate,  improvident  and  foolish  marriages  seem  rarer 
here  than  elsewhere.  So  our  two  treasures  are  sav- 
ing might  and  main,  and  I  suppose  before  long  we 
shall  once  more  be  on  the  search  for  other  treasures. 
When  the  time  comes  their  marriage  will  be  a 
modified  reproduction  of  the  ceremony  I  have  al- 
ready described.  Some  time  beforehand  the  couple 
will  choose  out  their  three-roomed  flat  and  furnish 
it  with  the  girl's  savings,  then  one  Saturday  morn- 
ing— it  is  always  a  Saturday  on  account  of  the  Sun- 
day holiday — the  bridegroom,  resplendent  in 
frock-coat  and  top-hat,  will  arrive  and  fetch  the 
bride,  who  has  adorned  herself  in  a  new  black  dress 
with  a  white  veil  and  orange  blossom.  The  black 
dress  is  sometimes  exchanged  for  white,  but  this 
only  happens  among  those  who  wish  to  make  an 
effect  at  all  costs — the  pretentious  folk,  who  care 
more  for  show  and  finery  than  utility.  The  couple 
then  drive  in  a  hired  carriage  and  pair  to  the  town 
hall  for  the  civil  ceremony,  and  then  on  to  church. 


'  1^'i-j^/^^'^^ 


m^M 


'•^':|^*|K-'-  '.^    ,,-,, 

/-■  .^^ 

■'-'--'-'    ..   ''':;if#             -^^^ 

eCPVSIOMT.  BV  ONOEnwOOD  a.  UNDEnwoOO, 

Sober-faced  peasant  children  of  the   Black  Forest 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER    257 

Afterward  they  enjoy  a  ponderous,  melancholy 
meal,  repair  to  the  Stadtgarten  for  the  afternoon, 
enjoy  a  day's  respite,  and  then — life  goes  on  as 
usual. 

A  genuine  peasant  wedding  is  arranged  on  much 
the  same  principle,  only  more  weight  is  laid  on 
family,  position,  etc.  No  peasant  will  allow  his 
daughter  or  son  to  marry  out  of  the  "Circle"  or 
into  a  poorer  family,  and  the  ceremony  is  simply 
the  seal  on  a  fair  bargain  between  two  business 
people  and  their  firms.  The  other  day,  on  a  tour 
through  the  Black  Forest,  I  had  the  good  fortune 
to  witness  just  such  a  wedding.  The  couple  had 
apparently  passed  through  the  civil  ceremony,  for 
when  I  arrived  on  the  scene  the  whole  cortege  was 
on  their  way  to  the  little  village  church,  the  bride 
and  bridegroom,  magnificent  in  their  picturesque 
''Tracht,"  leading  the  way,  followed  by  every 
friend  and  relation  who  could  be  mustered  for  the 
occasion.  The  Black  Forester  is  a  somber,  melan- 
choly person,  and  the  procession  might  just  as  well 
have  been  a  funeral,  except  for  the  bright  colors 
and  glistening  silver  ornaments  with  which  the 
women's  dresses  were  adorned.  After  the  marriage 
service,  which  was  held  in  the  broadest  dialect,  the 
whole  party  retired  into  the  Gasthaus,  where  a 


258  THE    GERMANS 

great  dinner  had  been  ordered.  It  must  have  cost 
the  host  a  good  portion  of  his  hard-earned  savings 
— it  may  even  have  cost  him  more  than  he  could  af- 
ford— and  nobody  seemed  to  enjoy  it  in  the  least. 

Very  indiscreetly,  perhaps,  we  peeped  through 
the  glass  doors.  The  bride  and  bridegroom  sat 
at  the  center  of  the  table  like  two  depressed  wooden 
dolls,  and  as  far  as  we  could  make  out,  nobody 
smiled  or  spoke  during  the  whole  performance.  At 
intervals  the  village  string  band  filled  up  the 
silences  with  slow  and  dreary  music,  which,  after 
the  tables  had  been  cleared  away,  woke  to  some- 
thing like  a  waltz.  Then  the  various  couples  put 
their  arms  round  each  other's  waists — according  to 
peasant  fashion — and  twirled  lugubriously  round 
the  room  until  the  musicians  dropped  with  exhaus- 
tion. But  no  one  laughed,  no  one  spoke.  The  old 
peasant  father  sat  huddled  up  in  a  corner,  and 
watched  the  dancers  with  a  grim  and  melancholy 
eye — no  doubt  counting  the  cost.  At  any  rate  it  was 
a  very  grand  wedding,  so  I  was  told,  and  probably 
that  comforted  him,  for  the  Black  Forest  Gross- 
bauer  is  an  aristocrat  pur  sang,  and  would  prefer 
to  mortgage  his  ancestral  Hof  up  to  the  hilt  rather 
than  not  do  the  thing  properly  and  according  to  his 
position. 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER    259 

To  return  to  the  actual  courtship,  the  point  that 
impresses  the  observer  most  is  its  sobriety.  Let  me 
take  our  two  girls  as  examples.  Their  suitors  call 
on  them  and  request  them  for  the  pleasure  of  a 
walk,  which  boon  they  graciously  concede.  The 
pairs  then  go  off  together — not  arm  in  arm,  because 
they  are  not  yet  engaged — but  at  a  respectful  dis- 
tance, and  as  far  as  one  can  see,  wrapt  in  impene- 
trable silence.  This  happens  once  a  week  at  the 
most,  and  the  monotony  is  only  broken  by  the  yearly 
Kaiser  Ball,  to  which  the  girls  are  invited  by  their 
soldier  "friends."  Be  it  admitted  that  our  treasures 
are  really  treasures  domestically  and  morally; 
other  people  may  find  their  servants'  affaires  du 
cceur  less  agreeable,  but  our  Freda  and  Lena  are 
from  the  country,  and  have  a  certain  Bauern  Stolz 
which  forbids  the  slightest  unwarranted  familiar- 
ity, the  slightest  overstepping  of  the  boundaries  of 
respectability.  They  would  no  more  think  of  invit- 
ing their  "Schatz"  into  the  kitchen  than  they  would 
think  of  stealing.  But  this  solidity  of  character  is 
typical  of  the  German  working  class.  Just  as  one 
sees  no  drunkards  on  the  streets,  so  also  is  one  sel- 
dom if  ever  tormented  by  the  sight  of  brazen-faced 
couples  whose  exuberant  signals  of  affection  cast  a 
blot  upon  the  landscape.  Here  they  walk  arm  in 


26o  THE   GERMANS 

arm  or  hand  in  hand — pictures  of  propriety  and 
decorum.  It  is  true  that  there  are  cases  enough  of 
immorality,  but  for  the  most  part  they  are  atoned 
for  by  subsequent  marriage.  A  soldier,  for  instance, 
is  not  allowed  to  marry  during  his  two  years  with 
the  colors,  and  as  that  is  the  time  when  his  court- 
ship is  usually  in  full  progress,  it  sometimes 
happens  that  the  marriage  ceremony  has  to  be  post- 
poned to  a  time  which  social  order  regards  as  "too 
late."  But  it  is  performed,  and  that  is  something  to 
his  credit,  and  it  may  be  added  that  illegitimate 
children,  according  to  German  law,  are  legiti- 
mized by  the  subsequent  legal  union  of  the  parents. 
And  after  marriage?  I  have  already  mentioned 
in  an  earlier  chapter  that  the  German  wife  is  far 
from  being  the  browbeaten,  downtrodden  crea- 
ture of  the  fables,  but  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
husband  is  the  recognized  master  of  the  situation — 
more  through  custom  than  by  actual  legal  right. 
Legally  the  woman  and  her  fortune  can  be  com- 
pletely safeguarded,  but  for  all  practical  purposes 
the  man  is  the  ruler  in  the  household,  and  she  is 
content  that  it  should  be  so.  She  has  been  brought 
up  to  regard  the  man  as  the  being  who  must  and 
should  have  the  best  of  everything,  and  obedience 
to  his  wishes  and  requirements  is  too  deeply  en- 


MARRIAGE— BEFORE  AND  AFTER    261 

grained  in  her  for  any  resistance.  She  contents 
herself — perhaps  wisely — with  a  subtle  under- 
ground influence,  and  the  respect  with  which  she  is 
treated  by  her  husband  and  her  children.  For  the 
average  German  does  not  abuse  his  power  and  au- 
thority; and  whatever  else  he  forgets,  he  never  for- 
gets that  his  wife  is  the  mother  of  his  children. 

That  fact  seems  to  bind  him  to  her,  and  to  raise 
her  as  high  in  his  estimation  as  any  intellectual 
qualities  could  do.  It  is  the  same  with  the  children, 
who,  although  they  have  escaped  from  the  harsh 
rigor  of  a  few  generations  ago,  are  still  brought  up 
to  treat  their  parents  with  respect  and  deference, 
even  when  they  are  grown  up  and  independent.  It 
is  often  quite  startling  for  the  English  observer  to 
see  how  young  men,  well  in  their  majority,  will 
obey  without  question  or  protest  their  father's  ab- 
rupt and  somewhat  military  commands.  Yet,  on 
the  whole,  German  family  life  seems  to  me  very 
peaceful  and  united.  The  members  hang  tena- 
ciously together,  are  usually  devoted  to  each  other, 
and  domestic  scandals  and  disagreements  seem  re- 
markable for  their  rarity.  Divorce  is  easy  to  obtain, 
but  it  is  looked  upon  as  the  highest  disgrace,  and, 
guilty  or  innocent,  the  mere  fact  that  he  has  been  a 
party  in  a  divorce  case  is  sufficient  to  ruin  a  man's 


262  THE    GERMANS 

professional  career.  (An  officer,  for  instance,  who 
has  been  divorced,  or  who  has  divorced  his  wife,  is 
practically  compelled  to  send  in  his  commission.) 

As  divorce  cases  are  all  carried  on  de  camera,  the 
newspapers  and  a  certain  section  of  the  public  are 
cheated  of  many  a  sensational  titbit,  but  I  have  not 
found  that  this  consideration  for  individual  feel- 
ings and  public  morality  in  any  w^ay  increases  the 
number  of  those  seeking  release  from  their  con- 
jugal ties.  To  be  divorced  is  in  itself  a  stigma 
which  the  details  neither  abate  nor  increase,  and 
divorces  are  comparatively  rare — peculiarly  rare, 
one  might  say,  when  it  is  taken  into  consideration 
that  there  are  no  legal  separations,  and  that  divorce 
is  the  one  and  only  remedy.  No  doubt  the  German 
character  is  largely  responsible  for  this  peaceful 
state  of  things.  Tenacious,  slow,  imbued  from  his 
birth  with  a  great  sense  of  duty,  not  given  either  to 
excess  or  excitement,  faithful  and  conscientious, 
the  German  has  all  the  qualities  which  go  to  make 
a  satisfactory  husband.  Perhaps  he  would  not  suit 
the  more  independent  Englishwoman — though, 
curiously  enough,  I  know  of  twenty  of  my  country- 
women in  Karlsruhe  alone  who  have  run  the  risk 
without  regretting  it — but  he  suits  the  German 
woman  as  thoroughly  as  she  suits  him,  and  what 
more  could  be  desired? 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ANOTHER   FABLE — CHEAP   GERMANY 

My  German  Friend  caused  a  mild  commotion  the 
other  day  by  appearing  at  the  breakfast  table  with 
a  face  flushed  with  excitement  and  pleasure. 

^'Just  think  what  has  happened!"  she  entreated. 
"Just  try  and  imagine!" 

Of  course,  as  was  expected  and  desired,  nobody 
could  imagine  what  had  happened,  though  a  few 
improbable  suggestions  were  made.  The  great 
news  was  then  burst  upon  us. 

"Something  has  grown  cheaper!" 

"What?" 

"Bread!" 

General  looks  of  strong  disbelief. 

"It  must  be  the  first  of  April.  How  much?" 

"A  whole  pfennig  a  loaf!" 

It  was  true.  The  astounding  thing  had  actually 
come  to  pass — something  had  really  grown 
cheaper.  It  was  almost  too  good  to  be  believed — 
we  felt  that  an  avenging  Nemesis  in  the  form  of  a 

263 


264  THE    GERMANS 

new  tax  on  matches  or  something  equally  necessary 
would  immediately  appear  on  the  scene  to  quench 
our  joy,  but  as  yet — the  incident  I  have  just  related 
occurred  two  days  ago — nothing  has  happened,  so 
we  are  beginning  to  breathe  again.  It  will  be  seen, 
however,  that  cheapness  is  something  unusual,  in- 
deed practically  unknown  in  a  German  household; 
and  the  hopeful  English  family  proposing  to  come 
and  settle  in  the  Fatherland  in  order  to  "econo- 
mize" had  better  change  their  minds  and  go  else- 
where. I  know  just  such  a  family,  and  I  know  all 
the  experiences  they  went  through,  so  that  I  feel 
myself  in  a  position  to  act  as  warning  spirit  to  any 
one  laboring  under  the  old  delusion.  This  family 
was  particularly  sanguine. 

"What  we  want,"  wrote  the  mother,  "is  a  nice 
little  eight-room  house  with  just  enough  garden  for 
the  children  to  play  in.  Of  course  a  bath-room  and 
a  good  kitchen  will  be  necessary,  and  above  all 
things  it  must  be  cheap.  I  am  sure  in  a  small  town 
like  Karlsruhe  one  can  get  a  nice  house  at  a  very 
low  rent,  and  I  should  be  very  grateful  if  you 
would  be  on  the  lookout  for  something  suitable." 

I  remonstrated  so  earnestly  that  I  fancy  the  poor 
lady  thought  I  had  my  private  reasons  for  not 
wanting  her  in  the  neighborhood.  At  any  rate  she 


CHEAP   GERMANY  265 

Ignored  all  my  warnings  and  protests,  and  landed, 
with  the  whole  family,  at  the  best  hotel. 

"It  looked  so  shabby  that  I  was  sure  it  would  be 
cheap,"  she  explained  to  me  in  triumph  over  her 
fine  instinct  in  the  matter  of  economy.  There  are 
some  people  whom  it  is  wiser  to  leave  to  wander 
to  their  destruction  in  their  own  way,  so  I  said 
nothing,  trusting  that  the  first  week's  hotel  bill 
would  be  sufficiently  convincing.  My  friend  did 
not  have  to  wait  a  week,  however,  before  her  eyes 
were  very  wide  open  indeed. 

"But,"  she  exclaimed,  after  the  first  day's  ex- 
hausting search  after  a  suitable  place  of  residence, 
"where  are  the  houses?  Everybody  lives  in  flats. 
Why  do  they  live  in  flats?  They  are  horrid." 

"They  are  cheaper,"  I  ventured  meekly. 

"Why?" 

"Because  you  can  build  as  high  as  you  like  with- 
out having  to  pay  more  ground  rent.  Only  the  rich 
people  have  their  own  houses." 

"How  horrible!  Aren't  there  any  small  houses 
to  be  had  then — you  know,  nice  little  semi-detached 
villas  for  about  £60  a  year?  Surely  in  a  small  town 
like  this," — etc.,  etc. 

I  showed  her  what  there  was  to  be  had.  There 
are    some    charming   houses    in    Karlsruhe — real 


266  THE    GERMANS 

works  of  art,  with  every  imaginable  comfort  and 
convenience  except  a  garden,  and  rents  ranging 
from  £150  to  £300  a  year.  They  reduced  my  friend 
almost  to  tears. 

^'One  hundred  and  eighty  pounds  for  an  eight- 
roomed  house  without  a  garden? — why,  it  is  pre- 
posterous!" she  told  the  house-agent  in  her  best 
German.  He  looked  very  offended  and  threw  open 
the  window,  displaying  a  backyard  some  ten  feet  by 
six. 

"There  is  the  garden!"  he  said,  in  a  tone  which 
said  plainly,  What  more  could  you  want?  "And  as 
to  the  price,"  he  went  on,  "it  is  very  low  for  Karls- 
ruhe." Which  latter  statement  was  perfectly  true. 
We  ourselves,  as  I  proceeded  to  explain,  live  in  an 
old-fashioned  house  with  ten  rooms  and  a  backyard 
which  we  have  succeeded  in  transforming  into  a 
miniature  garden — no  electric  light,  no  central 
heating,  no  hot  water,  blessed  with  the  close  prox- 
imity of  a  railway,  and  a  rent  of  £150  a  year.  And 
the  landlord  treats  us  as  though  he  were  indulging 
in  a  kind  of  noble-hearted  charity  in  not  raising  our 
rent  by  another  £20.  AH'  this  sounded  very  de- 
pressing, and,  with  the  justice  which  is  usual  in 
such  cases,  my  friend  remarked  that  it  would  have 
been  kinder  if  I  had  told  her  all  this  before. 


BV  ONOCRWOOD  A  UNDER 

Unter  den  Linden,  Berlin's   famous  and  beautiful  street 


CHEAP   GERMANY  267 

In  the  first  moment  of  wrath  and  indignation  she 
wanted  to  pack  up  and  move  on  to  a  ^^typical  cheap 
German  town,"  but  it  was  pointed  out  to  her  that 
unless  she  wanted  to  bury  herself  in  what  is  called 
a  "Nest,"  she  would  find  nothing  cheaper — that  in 
fact  the  "typical  cheap  German  town"  is  no  more 
than  a  fable  of  times  long  past.  This  and  the  hotel 
bill  helped  to  crush  her  last  resistance,  and  she 
condescended  to  take  a  flat  with  the  meek  observa- 
tion that  "perhaps  it  would  not  be  so  bad."  The  flat 
was  on  the  fourth  floor  in  a  quiet  part  of  the  town, 
and  consisted  of  five  rooms,  a  kitchen  of  minute 
dimensions  without  a  range,  and  an  equally  minute 
bath-room  without  a  bath.  For  this  Eldorado  she 
paid  £75  a  year,  and  was  told  that  she  had  done 
well. 

The  next  point  was  the  servant  question.  My 
German  Friend  here  came  to  the  rescue,  and  ob- 
tained the  services  of  an  honest,  red-cheeked  girl 
from  the  country,  who  declared  herself  a  cook  and 
able  to  do  any  amount  of  work.  My  English  friend 
smiled  again — for  the  first  time  since  the  first  day's 
house  hunting — when  she  heard  the  wages,  and  she 
smiled  still  more  when  she  saw  what  prodigies  of 
industry  and  good  will  that  small  sum  of  £15  a  year 
had  procured. 


268  THE    GERMANS 

'^She  can't  cook  much,"  she  admitted,  "but  she 
works  from  morning  to  night,  and  is  always  so 
cheerful  and  willing  and  quite  content  to  have  only 
Sunday  afternoon  free.  As  soon  as  I  have  got  her 
into  cap  and  apron  she  will  do  splendidly." 

But  the  cap  and  apron  proved  the  hitch.  Neither 
good  words  nor  threats  would  induce  the  paragon 
to  change  her  own  peculiar  and  miscellaneous  cos- 
tume. Although  the  sight  of  the  rather  slatternly 
object  at  the  front  door  nearly  broke  my  friend's 
heart,  she  had  to  yield  to  the  inevitable. 

"If  you  want  a  girl  who  will  wear  a  cap  and 
apron  you  will  have  to  pay  double  and  she  will  do 
half  the  work,"  she  was  told  by  the  authorities,  and 
after  that  the  sturdy  little  maid-of-all-work  was 
allowed  to  wander  to  the  market  hatless,  capless, 
with  a  blue  apron  and  a  collarless  blouse  without 
protest. 

For  a  time  all  went  well.  After  true  English 
fashion  my  friend  proceeded  to  continue  her  life 
on  the  English  method  without  regard  to  the  fact 
that  she  was  no  longer  in  England.  She  had,  for 
instance,  English  breakfasts  of  ham  and  eggs,  etc., 
and  it  was  only  after  a  few  weeks  that  those  lux- 
uries disappeared  unhonored  and  unsung  from  the 
daily  menu.    After  that  the  evening  dinner  van- 


CHEAP   GERMANY  269 

ished,  and  we  were  cautiously  questioned  as  to  how 
we  lived  and  what  we  ate. 

"I  can't  imagine  what  the  Germans  live  on  or 
how  they  manage  to  get  so  fat,"  she  complained 
queruously — she  was  still  blindly  determined  that 
all  Germans  are  abnormally  stout.  "Everything  is 
so  frightfully  dear.  Meat  is  appalling.  For  a  mod- 
erately good  piece  I  have  to  pay  twice  as  much  as 
I  would  in  England.  Bread  is  twice  as  expensive, 
butter  twice  as  expensive,  vegetables  twice  as  ex- 
pensive, tea  three  times  as  expensive — the  only 
thing  one  can  get  cheaply  is  home-grown  fruit,  and 
one  can't  live  on  that  all  day." 

I  agreed  with  her,  and  pointed  out  that  as  a  logi- 
cal consequence  the  grand  English  meals  are  un- 
known here,  even  among  the  well-to-do  families. 
A  breakfast  of  coffee  and  rolls,  a  midday  meal  of 
soup,  meat,  and  pudding,  a  simple  tea  with  bread 
and  butter,  a  supper  of  cold  meat,  cheese,  or  fruit — 
such  is  the  culinary  program  of  nearly  every  house 
in  Karlsruhe.  In  a  great  many  of  the  moderately 
situated  families  the  midday  pudding  is  altogether 
discarded,  and  I  doubt  if  anywhere  a  four-course 
dinner  is  the  usual  thing.  This  applies  to  other 
towns  and  to  the  richest  people.  Ever5rwhere  there 
is  the  same  simplicity  where  food  is  concerned. 


270  THE    GERMANS 

The  food  is  good  and  plentiful  on  wealthy  tables — 
on  poorer  tables  it  is  not  so  good  or  so  plentiful, 
that  is  the  chief  difference.  This  simplicity  is 
partly  the  result  of  taste,  partly  the  result  of  the 
high  rate  of  living.  My  English  friend  exaggerated 
when  she  said  that  everything  was  twice  as  expen- 
sive in  Germany — a  third  would  have  been  nearer 
the  truth — but  it  is  not  an  exaggeration  to  say  that 
an  English  person  is  only  half  as  rich  here  as  in  his 
own  land.  Unless  he  adapts  himself  to  the  German 
mode  of  living,  and  drops  the  luxuries  to  which  he 
is  accustomed,  he  will  find  himself  very  badly  off 
indeed. 

The  German  is  not  badly  off,  and  does  not 
feel  the  increasing  financial  burden  so  heavy,  sim- 
ply because  he  is,  and  always  has  been,  content  to 
live  quietly  and  to  do  without  what  he  considers  the 
unnecessary  things  of  life.  He  lays  no  stress  on  ap- 
pearances. You  will  never  find  a  German  pinching 
and  squeezing  the  family  purse  in  order  to  dress 
well  or  in  the  latest  fashion.  Clothes  are  appallingly 
expensive — I  use  the  word  "appalling"  in  all  se- 
riousness— not  only  in  Karlsruhe  but  everywhere, 
and  the  direct  consequence  is  the  badly-dressed 
people  which  sadden  the  German  streets.  It  is  no 
doubt  part  tastelessness,  but  it  is  also  in  no  small  de- 


CHEAP   GERMANY  271 

gree  because  good  and  tasteful  things  are  only  to  be 
had  for  heavy  gold.  The  rich  people  do  dress  well, 
because  they  can  afford  unnecessary  luxuries,  but 
there  are  not  many  rich  people  hereabouts,  and  the 
moderately  circumstanced  folks  are  quite  content  to 
go  shabby  and  live  simply,  reserving  their  money 
for  things  which  they  do  consider  necessary — edu- 
cation, holidays,  the  theater,  concerts,  and  so  on. 

In  this  brief  review  of  German  living  I  must  not 
forget  the  taxes  which  cause  the  periodical  out- 
bursts of  indignation.  On  the  whole  they  seem 
to  me  irritating  but  more  justly  divided.  Not  only 
the  rich  are  taxed  but  everybody  down  to  the 
kitchen-maid  with  her  £15  a  year.  It  must  be  very 
galling  to  have  to  part  with  even  a  few  shillings  of 
such  hard-earned  wages,  and  still  more  galling  to 
have  to  render  account  of  all  tips  and  money-pres- 
ents, but  nowadays  one  is  so  sorry  for  the  poor 
rich  people  in  one's  own  country  that  the  system  of 
general  taxation  seems  quite  acceptable. 

The  lower  classes  accept  this  income  tax  with 
little  complaint — it  is  the  indirect  taxatioji  which 
causes  the  most  wrath.  The  tax  on  matches  is  the 
latest  injury  over  which  the  German  people  are 
brooding,  and  many  and  cunning  are  the  ways  in 
which  the  objectionable  burden  is  shirked,  some 


272  THE    GERMANS 

people  even  going  to  the  length  of  making  their 
own  matches.  Which  proves,  I  think,  that  it  is 
more  the  German  love  of  grumbling  and  protesting 
than  real  suffering,  since  the  saving  is  minimum 
and  the  time  wasted  considerable.  At  the  same 
time  the  taxes  in  Germany  are  sufficiently  heavy  to 
make  living  for  many  families  distinctly  prob- 
lematic. On  an  income,  we  will  say,  of  £159  the 
direct  taxation  will  be  about  £3,  and  the  indirect 
taxation,  the  price  of  food  and  dwelling,  will  make 
the  expenditure  of  the  rest  an  all  too  easy  matter. 
But  the  German  adapts  himself  quickly,  and  what 
is  more  he  is  not  in  the  least  ashamed  of  adapting 
himself. 

"Food  has  grown  more  expensive — therefore  I 
shall  not  have  a  new  dress  this  summer,"  says  Frau 
S.  "Therefore  I  shall  not  entertain  so  much,  there- 
fore we  shall  do  without  such  and  such  a  dainty 
or  pleasure."  And  she  brings  the  required  sac- 
rifices without  more  ado.  Wealth  and  poverty  are, 
after  all,  purely  relative  and  form  her  standpoint. 
She  is  quite  as  well  off  and  quite  as  capable  of  fur- 
ther sacrifices  as  the  English  lady  who  appears 
every  evening  in  full  gala  to  partake  of  a  four- 
course  dinner  served  by  daintily  dressed  parlor- 
maids.   To  tell  the  truth,  I  do  not  think  that  either 


Typical  German  market-women 


CHEAP   GERMANY  273 

Frau  S.  or  her  husband  would  at  all  appreciate 
either  the  gala,  the  dinner,  or  the  parlor-maids.  I 
am  convinced  the  gala  and  the  servants  alone  would 
be  quite  sufficient  to  spoil  all  Gemiitlichkeit  in 
their  eyes. 

After  all  this  the  natural  question  for  the  more 
fastidious  and  delicately  nurtured  Englishman  to 
ask  is.  Why  do  so  many  foreigners  come  to  Ger- 
many, and  why  is  it  that  once  they  have  settled  they 
usually  stay  in  spite  of  their  grumblings?  Being 
myself  a  case  in  point,  I  should  be  able  to  answer 
the  question,  and  yet  I  find  a  decided  difficulty. 
There  are  many  answers,  but  the  chief  answer  is 
something  so  vague  and  indefinable  that  it  is  hard 
to  express  in  words.  It  is  true — food,  dwelling, 
and  clothes,  the  three  great  necessities  of  life,  are 
dearer  here,  and  in  many  ways  not  so  good,  and  yet 
it  is  also  true  that  there  are  other  things  to  be  had 
which  in  England  are  beyond  the  reach  of  the  poor 
man.  There  is  a  wonderful  charm  in  the  easy- 
going, simple,  and  unpretentious  life,  and  it  is  the 
advantage  of  allowing  the  German  and  his  imitator 
to  indulge  in  certain  luxuries,  in  certain  pleasures 
which  are  dearer  to  him  than  fine  clothes,  fine 
homes,  and  expensive  food.  The  German  will  bear 
anything,  shabby  clothes,  stuffy  flats,  and  plain  liv- 


274  THE    GERMANS 

ing,  so  long  as  he  can  enjoy  himself  in  his  own  way, 
so  long  as  he  can  afford  a  long  yearly  holiday,  ex- 
peditions into  the  country,  afternoons  in  the  Stadt- 
garten,  concerts,  and,  last  but  not  least,  a  regular 
attendance  at  the  great  National  School,  of  which 
I  shall  speak  in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XV; 

■THE  THEATER  AND  MUSICAL  LIFE 

I  THINK  if  I  had  no  other  reasons  for  living  in 
Germany  I  should  still  stay  on  for  the  sake  of  the 
doctors  and  the  theater.  Hence  enviable  people 
who  never  need  the  former,  and  unenviable  people 
who  never  want  the  latter,  will  find  themselves  de- 
prived of  two  of  the  things  which  are  at  once  cheap 
and  good  in  this  country.  Of  the  doctors,  I  need 
only  reecho  from  my  own  experience  what  the 
world  knows — namely,  that  they  are  brilliant  spe- 
cialists who  do  not  charge  two  guineas  for  con- 
ferring on  you  the  inestimable  boon  of  telling  you 
to  come  again.  Of  the  theater  I  can  say  with  con- 
viction that  it  is  an  institution  to  which  Germany 
owes  more  than  perhaps  even  she  realizes,  and  of 
which  she  has  the  right  to  be  proud  above  all 
nations. 

In  no  country  in  the  world  does  the  theater  play 
so  mighty  and  so  recognized  a  part.  In  England 
the  theater  is  a  relaxation,  a  place  of  entertainment; 

275 


276  THE    GERMANS 

in  Germany  it  is  an  education,  a  serious  institution, 
and  according  to  the  standpoint  from  which  it  is 
judged  it  has  become  in  the  one  country  a  place  for 
second  and  third-class  amusement,  and  in  the  other 
a  temple  of  Art,  a  great  school  for  those  who  have 
left  the  elementary  steps  of  learning  behind  them. 
If  this  statement  is  disputed,  I  need  only  ask  what 
self-respecting  father  in  a  middle-sized  English 
town  would  dream  of  sending  his  eighteen-year-old 
daughter  as  a  matter  of  course  once  or  even  twice 
a  week  to  the  local  theater?  The  very  idea  would 
make  him  throw  up  his  hands  in  horror.  He 
would  declare  that  such  a  proceeding  would  be  the 
ruin  of  his  daughter's  character  and  morals,  that 
he  would  be  laying  her  open  to  the  danger  of  hear- 
ing the  most  wretched  clap-trap — if  not  worse — 
that  was  ever  written.  And  he  would  be  perfectly 
right.  The  most  he  does  is  to  take  her  once  a  year 
to  London,  and  if  he  has  the  unusual  luck  to  hit 
upon  the  season  of  a  reckless  manager  indifferent 
to  earthly  gain,  he  may  be  able  to  take  her  to  a 
Shakespearean  performance,  otherwise  he  has  the 
choice  between  very  doubtful  after-dinner  society 
plays,  vulgar  pantomime,  stupid  and  trivial  musical 
comedies,  and  harmless  little  farces  which  have  no 
value  except  as  a  passe-temps  for  those  who  have  no 


THEATER   AND    MUSICAL    LIFE    277 

brains  left  for  anything  deeper.  The  German  who 
goes  to  London  is  always  pathetically  disappointed. 

"I  suppose  Shakespeare  was  an  Englishman, 
wasn't  he?"  one  young  student  remarked  to  me 
after  a  visit  to  England.  I  said  that  I  believed  so, 
unless  the  Germans  had  recently  adopted  him. 

^Then  why  is  London  the  only  capital  in  the 
world  where  you  can't  hear  his  plays  acted?" 

^'Oh,  but  you  can  sometimes.  Only  just  lately, 
for  instance,  we  have  been  having  a  Shakespearean 
revival." 

"Revival!  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  revive 
Shakespeare?  Why,  we  have  never  let  him  die. 
You  can  see  him  every  day  and  on  any  German 
theater — we  have  always  made  a  special  study  of 
him." 

Then,  after  a  long,  rather  uncomfortable  pause — 

"Who  is  your  greatest  playwright  just  now?" 

I  ventured  a  few  names.  He  shook  his  head  at 
all  of  them  except  Bernard  Shaw,  whom  he  recog- 
nized and  seemed  to  appreciate. 

"Yes,  but  he  is  something  unusual — not  strictly 
dramatic.  Haven't  you  any  one  like  our  Haupt- 
mann,  or  Sudermann,  or  like  the  French  Rostand?" 

"The  most  amusing  part  was  the  audience,"  he 
said  laughing.    "When  anybody  on  the  stage  did 


278  THE    GERMANS 

or  said  anything  noble  or  heroic  the  people 
clapped,  and  when  the  sentimental  parts  came  a 
thin  orchestra  played  a  melancholy  accompani- 
ment. I  suppose  every  nation  has  its  tastes  and 
ideals,  but  both  actions  seemed  to  me  unworthy  of 
serious  drama." 

The  expression  "serious  drama"  stuck  in  my 
memory  as  something  unusual.  It  occurred  to  me 
that  the  Englishman  does  not  go  to  the  theater  for 
serious  drama,  he  goes  to  be  amused  and  digest  his 
dinner.  Under  such  circumstances  the  theater  can 
not  be  serious  in  the  best  sense ;  it  can  be  thrilling, 
dramatic,  realistic,  but  it  can  not  reach  a  high  level 
because  a  high  level  is  not  required  or  appreciated, 
and  remains  the  risky  experiment  of  a  quixotic 
manager.  Hence  it  is  only  natural  that  to  go  to  the 
theater  as  regularly  and  as  often  as  the  German 
does  would,  in  England,  be  proof  of  a  decided 
frivolity,  not  to  say  immorality.  But  here  in  Karls- 
ruhe nearly  every  moderately  well-to-do  family  has 
its  season  ticket  for  the  theater,  which  allows  for 
two,  and  sometimes  three  performances  a  week, 
and  the  grown-up  girl  who  has  not  seen  the  chief 
masterpieces  of  the  German  and  foreign  classics, 
besides  a  goodly  number  of  modern  dramatic 
works,  would  think  that  her  education  had  been 


THEATER    AND    MUSICAL    LIFE     279 

shamefully  neglected.     Her  education,  be  it  ob- 
served! 

It  is  the  same  with  music.  Whatever  else 
must  be  sacrificed,  the  family  must  have  its  opera. 
They  go  as  shabby  as  you  like  and  sit  in  the  cheap- 
est seats  without  shame,  but  go  they  must.  And  it 
must  be  added  that  poverty  can  prove  no  real  bar- 
rier. In  Karlsruhe,  for  instance — and  again  Karls- 
ruhe is  fairly  typical  in  this  respect — it  is  possible 
to  hear  all  the  classic  plays  at  specially  reduced 
prices,  which  means  that  a  seat  in  the  gallery  costs 
twenty  pf.,  and  the  best  seat  in  the  house  three 
marks.  On  such  occasions  the  theater  is  crammed 
from  floor  to  ceiling.  Every  class  is  represented. 
The  school-boy,  the  school-girl,  the  shopkeeper,  the 
shopkeeper's  assistant,  the  student,  the  soldier,  the 
under-officer,  the  officer  himself,  and  far  away  up 
among  the  gods  the  ordinary  day-laborer.  The 
particular  performance  which  I  have  in  mind  was 
Schiller's  Jungfrau  von  Orleans,  and  it  was  hard  to 
decide  which  was  the  most  absorbing — the  play  or 
the  audience.  The  former  was  well  staged  and 
performed,  but  the  earnest  faces,  the  absolute,  at- 
tentive quiet  of  that  heterogeneous  crowd,  brought 
together  solely  by  actual  love  of  the  thing,  was  per- 
haps the  most  impressive,  the  more  inspiring. 


28o  THE    GERMANS 

As  I  have  said,  that  was  a  special  "cheap" 
performance.  The  ordinary  prices  for  a  play  or 
opera — the  theater  here  serves  for  both — is  from 
eighty  pf.  to  seven  marks,  but  the  season  ticket 
holder  gets  his  place  for  about  half  the  price.  Be- 
sides the  numberless  free  seats  which  are  given  to 
deserving  cases,  there  are  big  reductions  made  for 
students  at  the  Polytechnicum,  Art  Schools,  and 
Conservatorium,  and  once  a  year  the  whole  of 
Wagner's  Ring  is  given  in  an  extra  abonnement, 
which  means  that  on  the  best  seats  the  whole  four 
evenings  cost  sixteen  marks,  and  on  the  cheaper 
seats  about  four  marks.  I  give  these  details  to  show 
that  the  theater  and  its  educational  advantages  are 
within  the  reach  of  every  one,  and  it  is  only  fair  to 
add  that  the  performances  are  first  class  even  when 
compared  to  those  of  larger  and  richer  theaters.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  mention  that  Mottle  was  fifteen 
years  conductor  here,  and  that  many  of  the  singers 
have  performed  in  Covent  Garden  and  Bayreuth, 
to  prove  that  it  is  not  a  case  of  cheapness  and  poor 
quality. 

Those  wonderful  evenings  in  my  German  Year! 
Though  they  recur  so  constantly  they  do  not  lose 
their  charm  or  their  impressiveness — rather  each 
time  I  am  more  stirred  to  respect  and  admiration 


THEATER   AND    MUSICAL    LIFE    281 

for  the  deep-rooted  love  of  the  great  and  beautiful, 
which  must  be  as  well  in  the  audience  as  in  the  per- 
formers. They  are  not  fashionable  evenings — 
nothing  could  be  a  greater  contrast  than  an  evening 
in  the  Karlsruhe  Court  Theater  and  an  evening  in 
Covent  Garden.  Nobody  goes  because  it  is  "the 
thing,"  nobody  goes  to  show  off  diamonds  and  fine 
clothes.  Dowdy  and  shabby,  Karlsruhe's  little 
world  plants  itself  in  every  place  it  can  get  hold  of, 
and  sits  or  stands  there  in  breathless  silence  from 
the  warning  tap  of  the  conductor's  baton  to  the  fall 
of  the  curtain,  when  it  delivers  its  judgment  either 
in  rapturous  enthusiasm  or  merely  complimentary 
applause — according  to  the  performance.  For  the 
Karlsruhers  are  very  critical  and  not  easily  satis- 
fied. 

One  would  suppose  that  six  hours  of  serious  so- 
called  '^heavy"  music  would  appeal  only  to  the 
elect  and  highly  educated,  but  a  glance  up  at  the 
gallery  of  the  Court  Theater  on  a  Wagner  evening 
proves  quite  the  contrary.  It  is  an  orderly  crowd 
that  sits  up  among  the  gods,  but  it  is  a  crowd  com- 
posed of  the  poorest  classes.  I  remember  some 
time  ago  a  special  performance  of  Tannhduser 
which  was  being  given  with  a  famous  guest  in  the 
title  role.    I  had  neglected  to  procure  a  seat  before- 


282  THE    GERMANS 

hand,  and  was  told  at  the  ticket  office  that  only  one 
single  place  in  the  topmost  gallery  was  to  be  had. 
In  Germany  one  can  do  as  one  likes  in  such  matters, 
so  I  took  the  seat  and  went.  The  stage  was  not 
visible  from  my  point  of  view,  though  the  music 
sounded  better  than  from  any  other  part  of  the 
theater,  so  my  eyes  were  free  to  study  the  faces 
about  me.  For  the  most  part  they  were  quite  com- 
mon faces,  and  poverty  was  written  all  over  the 
respectable  though  shabby  clothes.  Nevertheless 
in  that  hour  at  least,  my  neighbors  seemed  to  be 
neither  common  nor  poor.  Some  of  those  nearest 
me  sat  with  closed  eyes,  others  had  their  heads  sup- 
ported in  their  hands — but  no  one  moved,  no  one 
spoke. 

Only  once,  during  Elizabeth's  prayer,  a  wom- 
an's hand  stretched  over  the  seat  behind  and 
grasped  my  shoulder.  It  was  a  thin,  work-worn 
hand,  not  very  clean.  I  turned  and  looked  at  her 
in  some  annoyance.  She  was  a  poor-looking  crea- 
ture of  the  market-woman  class,  but  her  face  was 
illuminated,  transfigured  with  a  kind  of  ecstasy 
which  I  shall  never  forget.  I  said  nothing,  and 
when  the  prayer  ended  she  dropped  back  with  a 
muttered  apology.  No  one  heeded  or  noticed  the 
incident.    It  was  as  though  each  one  of  those  weary 


THEATER  AND   MUSICAL   LIFE     283 

toilers  had  thrown  aside  their  daily  cares  and  wan- 
dered off  for  a  brief  respite  into  another  world, 
which  belongs  to  the  lowest  and  the  highest  if  he 
have  but  ears  to  hear  and  eyes  to  see.  It  was  a 
Sunday  evening,  but  I  think  the  strictest  Sab- 
batarian must  have  hesitated  before  condemning 
had  he  for  once  broken  his  law  and  sat  beside  me  in 
that  dense  crowd  of  dreamers.  I  think  he  must 
have  admitted  that  it  is  better  to  listen  to  ennobling 
music  than  to  loaf  round  public-house  corners — to 
be  elevated  to  a  higher  sphere  at  least  once  a  week, 
than  be  dragged  lower  by  a  day's  depraving  idle- 
ness. 

On  such  an  evening  one  finds  one  of  the  an- 
swers to  the  question.  Why  is  it  that  a  German  Sun- 
day crowd  is  quieter,  more  decent  and  respectable, 
than  our  own?  It  is  not  least  because  the  people 
are  not  flung  entirely  on  their  ow^n  resources,  not 
compelled  to  seek  their  pleasure  in  the  lowest  quar- 
ter. They  are  offered  the  best  at  the  lowest  possible 
price.  On  Sunday,  their  one  and  only  holiday,  the 
galleries  and  theater  are  open  to  them,  and  he  who 
prefers  to  seek  mental  refreshment  rather  than  the 
pleasures  of  the  public-house  is  at  least  given  the 
chance  to  respond  to  the  higher  inclination.  And 
it  is  noteworthy  how  many  do  respond  from  all 


284  THE    GERMANS 

classes,  even  from  the  lowest.  The  German  State 
has,  indeed,  recognized  a  fact  which  we  have  al- 
ways chosen  to  ignore,  namely,  that  a  National 
Theater  and  Opera  is  something  more  than  a  hot- 
house for  national  talent — it  is  an  immense  power, 
a  subtle  method  of  influencing  the  lives  and  char- 
acters and  thoughts  of  a  whole  people.  Only  a 
State  theater,  or  a  theater  supported  by  a  fixed 
official  income,  dare  make  an  ennobling  use  of  that 
influence.  A  self-supporting  theater  must  eventu- 
ally lower  itself  to  its  audience,  it  has  not  the 
financial  strength  ^to  fight  against  the  public  taste, 
already  ruined  by  the  unwholesome  fare  offered  it. 
Here  the  State  theater  has  done  its  work  regard- 
less of  gain  or  loss.  The  people,  down  to  the  lowest, 
have  been  educated  nolens  volens  to  appreciate  the 
best;  they  have  had  no  rubbish  offered  them  to  sat- 
isfy their  lower  tastes ;  they  have  been  deliberately 
forced  upward ;  and  now  that  the  higher  standard 
has  been  obtained,  it  is  possible  for  a  private  theater 
to  exist  and  retain  that  standard.  The  packed 
house  which  responded  to  the  invitation  to  witness 
an  old  classic  tragedy  proved  that  the  audience 
was  ripe  enough  to  appreciate  what  was  offered 
them,  and  who  can  calculate  the  benefit  which  was 
gathered  from  such  an  evening?     But  the  State 


THEATER  AND   MUSICAL   LIFE     28.(5 

theater  is  still  a  necessity;  it  is,  as  it  were,  the  back- 
bone of  the  dramatic  and  musical  national  life, 
the  high-water  mark  which  the  private  theaters 
must  struggle  to  attain  at  all  costs.  Moreover,  the 
State  theater  raises  not  only  the  audience,  but  it 
can  afford  to  place  the  performers  in  a  higher  and 
more  secure  position,  socially  and  financially. 

A  singer  or  an  actor  in  a  State  theater  is  a  State 
official ;  he  receives  a  settled  income,  and  after  a  cer- 
tain number  of  years'  service,  a  small  but  sufficient 
pension.  In  Kjarlsruhe,  for  instance,  he  is  the  direct 
servant  of  the  Grand-  Duke,  to  whom  the  theater 
belongs.  He  is  presented  at  Court,  and  so  long  as 
he  proves  himself  capable  and  worthy  of  the  posi- 
tion accorded  him,  he  can  always  count  on  the 
interest  and  support  of  his  royal  master.  In  cases 
where  a  great  talent  is  in  question  he  is  the  spoiled 
darling,  granted  long  leave  to  travel  as  guest  to 
other  theaters  and  other  countries,  receiving  his 
full  salary  the  whole  time,  only  compelled  to  sing 
when  it  pleases  him  and  what  pleases  him,  and  even 
has  his  debts  paid  for  him.  Naturally  this^  refers 
only  to  the  chief  actors  and  singers,  but  even  the 
lesser  lights  can,  if  they  are  careful,  secure  a  liveli- 
hood. On  the  whole,  therefore,  their  position  is 
enviable  compared  to  that  of  those  engaged  in 


286  THE    GERMANS 

private  theaters,  where  there  are  no  pensions, 
where  only  "season"  engagements  and  uncertain 
pay  are  to  be  obtained. 

The  besetting  dangers  of  a  State  theater — red- 
tapeism  and  a  narrow-minded  censorship — are  es- 
caped here  with  remarkable  success.  Occasionally 
a  worthless  piece  is  dragged  on  to  the  stage  through 
patronage,  and  occasionally  a  modern  masterpiece 
is  ignored  because  it  does  not  conform  to  the  rigor 
of  the  Court  morality,  but  both  mistakes  are  only 
the  exaggeration  of  two  valuable  virtues.  The 
same  patronage  has  brought  to  light  many  an  ig- 
nored genius — every  one  knows,  for  instance,  what 
Wagner  owed  to  the  King  of  Bavaria — and  the 
same  censorship  keeps  out  the  poisonous  rubbish 
which  infests  private  theaters.  The  State  recog- 
nizes its  responsibility,  and  if  it  is  sometimes  over- 
zealous,  the  fault  is  on  the  right  side. 

The  power  of  the  State  theater  lies  in  the  fact 
that  it  is  not  limited  to  the  capital.  Every  mod- 
erate-sized town  in  Germany  has  its  Court  or  Town 
theater,  where  the  masterpieces  of  every  language 
and  the  greatest  works  of  the  composers  are  pro- 
duced from  September  to  June,  without  interrup- 
tion, for  a  sum  which  is  within  the  reach  of  every 
one.     I  have  visited  other  theaters  outside  Karls- 


THEATER  AND   MUSICAL   LIFE     287 

ruhe,  and  have  never  found  that  the  standard  has 
been  lowered — I  do  not  think  that  the  standard 
could  be  lowered  without  financial  loss.  It  is  sig- 
nificant, for  instance,  that  at  Carnival,  when,  to  suit 
the  season,  an  operetta  is  given,  the  theater  is  com- 
paratively empty.  Possibly  the  people  are  other- 
wise occupied;  but  when  Tristan  und  Isolde  is 
given,  no  matter  what  the  season,  the  house  is 
packed  from  floor  to  ceiling.  I  remember  last  July 
that  Wagner's  great  masterpiece  was  given  as  the 
last  performance  in  the  theatrical  year.  It  was  a 
suffocating  summer's  night,  when  you  would  have 
supposed  that  no  ordinary  human  being  would 
willingly  endure  the  atmosphere  of  a  theater,  still 
less  have  the  mental  energy  to  listen  with  intelli- 
gence to  five  hours  of  the  most  serious  music.  An 
operetta — yes,  but  Tristan  und  Isolde!  Never- 
theless the  house  was  sold  out,  there  was  not  even 
standing  room  left.  Doubtless  there  is  a  peculiar 
charm  in  those  midsummer  nights'  performances. 

In  Karlsruhe  the  theater  is  situated  on  the  bor- 
ders of  the  Castle  grounds,  in  front  stretches  the 
broad  flower-grown  Schlossplatz,  and  between  the 
acts  one  wanders  out  into  the  clear  night  air  and 
watches  the  moon  rise  over  the  forest  trees  with  the 
lingering  echoes  of  well-loved  motifs  still  ringing 


288  THE    GERMANS 

in  one's  ears.  It  reminds  one  of  Bayreuth,  save  that 
in  Bayreuth  it  is  the  sinking  sun  over  the  hills 
v^hich  greets  the  audience  as  it  streams  out;  but 
there  is  the  same  "Stimmung,"  the  same  conscious- 
ness that  those  about  one  are  stirred  by  the  same 
emotions,  are  listening  and  responding  to  the  same 
harmonies.  Perhaps  even  more  here  than  there  one 
is  impressed  and  inspired  w^ith  the  knowledge  that 
they  are  all  music-lovers,  not  imitative  parrots  of 
fashion  seeking  to  do  ''the  latest  thing."  It  is  that 
genuine  w^hole-souled  love  and  understanding 
w^hich  raises  a  Wagner  performance,  even  in  a 
small  German  town,  to  the  level  of  the  grandest 
Covent  Garden  effort.  The  atmosphere — the 
''Stimmung"  is  everything. 

A  few  years  ago  a  celebrated  German  conductor 
was  offered  an  engagement  for  two  years  in  Amer- 
ica to  conduct  in  a  series  of  operas,  for  which  he 
was  to  receive — according  to  German  ideas — a 
fabulous  salary.  At  the  end  of  the  first  year, 
however,  he  came  back,  with  the  despairing 
declaration  that  he  could  not  stand  it — not  even  at 
the  highest  price.  The  consciousness  that  the  audi- 
ence did  not  understand  and  appreciate  as  he  was 
accustomed  to  them  understanding  and  appreciat- 
ing paralyzed  him,  paralyzed  his  orchestra,  and 


THEATER  AND   MUSICAL   LIFE     289 

paralyzed  the  singers.  No  doubt  things  are  better 
to-day,  but  it  is  inevitable  that  music,  and  to  some 
extent  drama,  should  stand  at  a  higher  level  in  a 
country  where  they  are  intelligently  appreciated  by 
the  people.  The  theater  in  Germany  is  financially 
supported  by  the  State,  but  above  all  it  is  supported 
by  the  need  for  it  in  the  heart  of  the  multitude.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  count  the  institutions,  Vereins, 
schools,  with  which  Karlsruhe  is  inundated  to  feel 
how  deep  that  need  is.  There  are  at  least  a  dozen 
choral  societies,  composed  for  the  most  part  of  the 
lower  classes,  under  the  direction  of  a  professional 
musician;  as  many  schools  where  a  first-class  mu- 
sical education  can  be  had  for  a  few  pounds  a  year; 
and  more  private  orchestras  and  quartettes,  than  I 
should  like  to  count.  There  is  also  a  large  and  im- 
portant Bach  Society,  which  next  Sunday  is  giving 
a  lecture  on  its  patron  musician,  with  an  illustrat- 
ing concert  for  the  benefit  of  the  working  classes — 
a  musical  event  which,  I  am  told,  will  be  honored 
by  the  attendance  of  all  the  factory  folk  in  and 
about  Karlsruhe.  This  Bach  Society  reminds  me  of 
a  poor  little  sewing-woman,  who  used  to  come  to 
our  house  to  attend  to  the  dilapidated  household 
goods.  She  always  looked  so  thin  and  ill  and  pov- 
erty-stricken that  it  seemed  a  cruelty  to  suggest 


290  THE    GERMANS 

work  to  her,  but  her  frail  body  was  kept  alive  by  an 
inexhaustible  fund  of  energy,  and  she  was  all  eager- 
ness and  willingness.  One  day  she  brought  back 
our  damaged  possessions,  together  with  an  addi- 
tional burden  in  the  form  of  a  stout  volume  of 
Bach's  oratorios. 

^'I  had  to  come  a  little  earlier,  gnadiges  Frau- 
lein,"  she  apologized  meekly.  "You  see,  we  have 
practice  this  evening." 

"Practice?"  I  echoed. 

"Yes ;  I  belong  to  the  Bach  Verein.  We  are  hard 
at  work  at  the  Matthauspassion  for  the  next  con- 
cert." 

"Do  you  sing,  then?"  The  question  was  pardon- 
able, for  she  was  coughing  most  of  the  time,  and 
her  voice  sounded  dry  and  husky. 

"Only  a  little;  but  they  say  I  have  a  good  ear, 
and  sometimes  I  just  sit  and  listen.  It  is  so  beau- 
tiful." 

'Her  whole  face  had  lighted  up,  she  looked 
stronger  and  healthier  for  that  short  moment.  I 
believe  that  without  that  one  pleasure,  that  one 
bright  spot  in  her  life,  the  little  strength  she  had 
would  long  since  have  been  broken.  Some  time 
afterward  circumstances  made  it  necessary  for  me 
to  seek  her  out  in  her  own  dwelling.  It  was  scarcely 


THEATER  AND   MUSICAL   LIFE     291 

more  than  a  divided  cupboard  at  the  back  of  some 
old  houses,  and  in  the  one  division  was  her  bed — 
in  the  other  her  piano.  The  miserable  bed  and  the 
carefully  tended  piano  made  a  picture  whose  ex- 
planation needed  no  words.  It  told  sufficiently  of  a 
great  sacrifice  made  to  the  ruling  passion  of  a  seem- 
ingly wretched  and  sunless  existence.  And  her  case 
is  not  isolated.  In  greater  or  lesser  degree  the  aver- 
age German  of  every  class  sacrifices  something  of 
his  time,  his  money,  and  above  all  his  interest,  to 
music.  From  the  overworked  school-boy  who 
spends  his  few  spare  hours  at  the  piano,  to  the  busi- 
ness man  who  regularly  plays  quartette,  one  finds 
the  same  earnest  enthusiasm,  the  same  love  and  un- 
derstanding. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  the  half-terrible,  half- 
ridiculous  specter  of  dilettantism  is  not  wholly 
banished  from  German  soil.  The  maiden  who  rev- 
els in  Mendelssohn's  Songs  Without  Words,  and 
pretty  showy  little  pieces  de  salon  with  trills  in  the 
right  hand  and  a  running  accompaniment  in  the 
left,  may  sometimes  be  met,  but  she  is  not  admired 
as  an  infant  prodigy — even  by  her  family — and  she 
is  firmly  suppressed  by  public  taste,  so  that  one 
hears  very  little  of  her.  The  average  German  is  a 
true  musician ;  and  if  it  be  true  that  "the  man  who 


292  THE    GERMANS 

hath  no  music  in  his  soul  is  fit  for  treason,"  then 
by  inversion  the  Teuton  must  be  the  most  trust- 
worthy man  on  earth.  And,  indeed,  I  am  not  sure 
that  my  affection  and  admiration  for  him  has  not 
grown  fastest  in  the  dim  Karlsruhe  theater,  when 
the  music  of  the  greatest  Germans  has  broken  upon 
the  tense  stillness.  I  am  not  sure  that  in  the  stifling 
atmosphere  of  the  fourth  gallery  I  did  not  learn  to 
know  him  at  his  best  and  truest — as  the  musician 
and  the  dreamer. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

EDUCATION 

In  the  course  of  my  German  year — or  rather  years 
— it  has  been  my  fate  to  meet  many  people  belong- 
ing to  many  different  circles  and  of  all  ages.  Some 
have  merely  passed  across  my  horizon,  others  have 
remained,  but  whether  my  acquaintance  with  them 
has  been  merely  superficial  or  otherwise,  they  have 
as  a  whole  impressed  me  as  people  either  excep- 
tionally intelligent  or  exceptionally  well-educated. 
I  have  not  made  up  my  mind  as  to  the  exceptional 
intelligence — I  divide  German  women,  for  in- 
stance, into  two  distinct  groups,  the  intensely  wide- 
awake or  the  intensely  dull — but  certainly  it  is  very 
seldom  that  one  stumbles  over  such  crass  ignorance 
as  one  sometimes  finds  in  England,  even  among 
the  so-called  educated  classes.  It  never  struck  me 
until  I  had  been  some  time  in  Germany  that  there 
was  anything  wrong  with  our  system  of  education, 
or  that  our  standard  was  not  the  highest;  and  when 
a  German  professor  informed  me  in  a  courteous 

293 


294  THE    GERMANS 

roundabout  way  that  English  schools  were  delight- 
ful places,  where  one  learned  as  little  as  possible  at 
the  highest  possible  price,  I  was  most  indignant. 
Then  gradually,  by  force  of  comparison,  my  na- 
tional self-satisfaction  dwindled,  and  I  have  been 
forced  to  the  conclusion  that  the  professor's  state- 
ment was  not  wholly  without  justification — espe- 
cially where  women's  education  is  concerned. 

There  are  no  doubt  one  or  two  public  schools  for 
girls  in  England  where  a  sound  education  can  be 
obtained,  but  if  one  may  judge  by  results,  the 
average  private  school,  if  an  abode  of  happiness,  is 
little  better  than  the  finishing  establishment  of  our 
grandmothers.  I  know  too  many  English  girls  of 
average  intelligence  who  have  been  the  ^^best" 
pupils  at  first-class  and  very  expensive  boarding- 
schools,  not  to  have  been  able  to  form  an  estimate  of 
the  average  English  girl's  knowledge.  As  a  rule 
she  can  read  intelligently,  sometimes  she  can  write 
correctly — but  by  no  means  always — she  can  add 
and  subtract,  and  make  herself  a  nuisance  on  the 
piano.  Add  to  that  a  blur  of  geography,  history, 
and  literature,  a  few  sentences  of  atrocious  French 
and  worse  German,  and  you  have  the  sum-total  of 
her  earthly  wisdom.  Her  parents  are  very  proud; 
she  plays  tennis  excellently,  and  to  all  appearances 


EDUCATION  295 

is  mentally  well  equipped,  for  have  they  not  paid 
£150  a  year  for  her  education,  and  has  she  not 
passed  the  Cambridge  Higher  Local  with  first-class 
honors?  But  ask  that  same  prodigy  a  single  ques- 
tion outside  her  so-called  "period,"  ask  her  a  single 
question  concerning  modern  literature  or  modern 
events,  and  she  looks  at  you  in  absolute  blankness. 
In  truth,  she  has  been  crammed  with  her  periods 
for  that  examination — "the  rest  is  silence." 

Cramming  for  and  the  love  of  examinations  is 
the  curse  of  English  education;  the  examinations 
prove  next  to  nothing,  and  sometimes  are  wholly 
misleading,  and  the  system  by  which  pupils  are 
dragged  up  to  grasp  the  empty  glory  is  enough  to 
make  sound  knowledge  an  impossibility.  The  Ger- 
man pedagogue  starts  out  on  his  task  with  an  en- 
tirely different  theory.  Examinations  in  themselves 
count  for  very  little  in  his  eyes ;  it  is  the  year's  work, 
the  class  work  of  the  pupil  which  matters.  The 
examination  is-  the  tolerated  evil — not  the  end-all 
and  the  be-all  of  a  school  career.  He  regards  the 
school,  moreover,  as  a  preparation  for  education — • 
not  the  education  itself,  which  begins  after  the  boy 
or  girl  has  left  school — and  it  is  essential,  therefore, 
that  the  preparation  should  be  thorough  and  em- 
brace the  widest  possible  ground.    There  must  be 


296  THE    GERMANS 

no  vagueness,  no  collecting  of  scraps  or  polishing 
up  of  set  periods.  What  the  pupil  learns  must  be 
learned  in  a  way  which  will  make  it  of  lasting 
utility  to  him. 

But  there  is,  I  must  add,  a  shadowy  side  to  the 
preparation.  It  is  said  that  the  German  school-boy 
and  -girl  are  overworked,  and  there  is  all  too  much 
truth  in  the  statement;  the  pressure  put  upon  them 
is  extreme,  and  leads  sometimes  to  tragic  break- 
downs. Few  Germans  look  back  upon  their  school- 
days with  any  particular  pleasure ;  it  is  for  them  the 
time  when  they  work  hardest,  have  least  leisure, 
are  least  children.  A  little  six-year-old  boy  of  my 
acquaintance,  who,  after  his  first  week  at  school, 
asked  his  mother,  "Then,  shall  I  never  be  able  to 
play  again?"  voiced  the  pathetic  appeal  of  the 
greater  number  of  German  children.  From  the 
hour  that  they  pass  through  the  school  doors  they 
have  ceased  to  be  children — they  have  become 
workers,  responsible  beings,  to  whom  life  has  be- 
come an  immense,  serious  reality,  and  play  an  ever- 
decreasing  interlude.  The  evil  of  the  system  is 
apparent  to  every  one,  and  efforts  are  being  made 
to  check  it,  to  find  a  middle  path  between  the 
English  slackness  and  the  German  high  pressure — 
hitherto  tried  with  little  success. 


CO»»YRrGMT,   BY   ONDERWCOD  ±  UNOCRWOOD,  f 


School  girls  in  holiday   costume   playing  games 


EDUCATION  297 

The  reason  that  the  German  is  advancing  with 
so  much  rapidity  in  the  world  is  that  he  spares 
no  one,  least  of  all  himself.  "Either  you  are  fit, 
and  then  you  must  bear  the  burden,  or  you  are  not 
fit,  and  then  it  is  best  that  you  go  to  the  wall  at 
once."  Such  is  the  stern  admonition  which  is  ad- 
dressed to  every  young  man  or  woman  wishing  to 
force  their  way  into  the  professional  world,  and  the 
demands  made  upon  them  are  increasing  daily.  It 
is  useless  for  the  schools  to  attempt  to  curtail  their 
curriculum  so  long  as  the  State  continues  to  screw 
its  standard  to  an  ever  higher  and  less  attainable 
pitch. 

All  of  the  professions  are  overcrowded,  and  the 
State  can  afford  to  be  particular.  Those  who  do 
pass  their  tests  have  the  chance  of  a  brilliant  career 
before  them;  those  who  fail,  mentally  or  physi- 
cally, have  proved  their  inability  to  fill  any  im- 
portant post,  and  the  State  is  glad  that  it  has 
weeded  them  out.  The  same  applies  to  business 
and  trade.  The  successful  business  man  in  Ger- 
many is  the  man  who  works  unremittingly  from 
eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  seven  o'clock  at 
night,  who  takes  one  holiday  a  year,  and  bears  the 
strain  without  mental  or  physical  injury.  Those 
who  can  not  stand  the  hours  nor  the  constant  tax 


298  THE    GERMANS 

upon  mind  and  body,  who  need  holidays  and  sport 
as  a  relaxation,  are  simply  "hustled"  out  of  the 
competition.  There  is  no  room  anywhere  for  the 
weakling — only  the  fittest  can  survive. 

Hence,  whatever  branch  the  school-boy  chooses, 
his  life  will  be  a  hard  one,  and  it  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  he  looks  older  than  his  years.  From  six 
to  eighteen  his  time  is  spent  in  steady  work  with 
short  holidays — ten  weeks  in  the  year  is  the  average 
amount.  In  all  probability  he  makes  his  debut 
into  the  educational  world  through  the  Kinder- 
garten— a  merciful  German  institution  which  pre- 
pares the  child's  mind  for  the  coming  strain.  He 
then  passes  on  into  the  Elementary  School,  where 
he  remains  until  his  tenth  year.  It  is  then  time  for 
him  to  choose  the  direction  in  which  his  studies  are 
to  tend.  If  he  is  going  in  for  a  professional  career 
he  is  sent  to  the  ordinary  Gymnasium,  where  he  re- 
ceives a  thorough  classic  education  on  the  old  sys- 
tem; if  he  is  going  in  for  a  commercial  or  technical 
career  he  passes  into  the  Realgymnasium,  where 
the  greater  stress  is  laid  upon  practical  science, 
modern  languages,  and  mathematics.  There  he  re- 
mains until  he  is  eighteen.  By  that  time,  following 
the  normal  course,  he  has  reached  the  first  class,  but 
even  if  he  has  only  reached  the  second  he  is  consid- 


EDUCATION  299 

ered  as  having  reached  a  sufficiently  high  standard 
to  be  excused  one  year  of  his  service  in  the  army. 

Should  he,  for  some  reason,  have  been  edu- 
cated at  a  private  school,  he  will  have  to  pass  the 
Einjahrige  Examination — a  test  requiring  the  same 
amount  of  knowledge  as  a  boy  in  the  second  class 
must  possess.  The  Einjahrige  Examination — or, 
in  the  usual  routine,  the  second  class  standard — is 
the  lowest  with  which  an  educated  German  can 
start  life.  It  is  by  no  means  a  low  standard,  as  the 
many  coaching  schools  testify,  and  the  problem 
how  it  is  to  be  reached  is  the  one  which  the  parents 
of  not  over  intelligent  boys  have  to  face  and  solve. 
The  private  teachers  and  schools  exist  in  order  to 
help  them.  The  elementary  schools  and  the  Gym- 
nasium are  all  State  or  town  institutions,  which  can 
be  attended  by  every  one  who  can  afford  the  neces- 
sary sixty  marks  a  year;  and,  in  spite  of  the  mixed 
society  in  which  his  son  must  mingle,  the  average 
German  father  prefers  to  send  him  there  rather 
than  to  a  private  school.  A  father  residing,  we  will 
say,  in  Karlsruhe,  would  no  more  think  of  sending 
his  son  to  a  boarding-school  in  another  town  than 
he  would  think  of  sending  him  to  a  reformatory. 

The  boy  stays  .at  home  and  attends  the  Town 
Gymnasium,  or,  if  his  home  should  happen  to  be  in 


300  THE    GERMANS 

the  country,  he  is  sent  to  some  professor's  family  in 
the  nearest  town.  Boarding-schools  for  boys  have,  in 
fact,  like  the  other  private  schools,  a  certain  stigma 
attached  to  them.  They  exist  for  those  who  are 
either  too  delicate,  too  stupid,  or  too  unmanageable 
and  untrustworthy  to  be  brought  up  to  the  critical 
Einjahrige  standard  by  any  other  means.  In  the 
Gymnasium  the  boy  always  enjoys  a  certain  intel- 
lectual freedom.  If  he  is  treated  as  a  machine,  he  is 
at  least  treated  as  a  reasonable  machine,  which  will 
work  because  it  knows  that  the  work  is  essential  to 
its  existence  in  after  life.  He  is  not  watched  over  or 
guided.  He  must  work — how  he  works  is  his  own 
affair.  This  requires  of  him  a  certain  strength  of 
character  and  a  considerable  amount  of  brains. 
Should  he  lack  both  he  is  weeded  out  and  sent  to  a 
private  school,  where  he  receives  "individual  care 
and  attention."  Hence  a  boy  who  enters  life  with  a 
private  school  education  behind  him  is  already  la- 
beled as  mentally  or  physically  or  morally  unfit. 

Continuing  with  the  average  German's  educa- 
tional career,  he  passes  from  the  Gymnasium  into 
the  army,  and  that  year  with  the  troops  is  his  sal- 
vation, the  great  antidote  for  the  errors  of  his  pre- 
vious upbringing.  But  for  that  he  would  become 
an  energiless,  unhealthy  victim  of  overwork,  physi- 


I   ly^   I    \ .' 


'>     '        '  7!'^*''  y-  h    I  '      ' 


C0«V1«GMT,  (V  ONOtKWOOO  A  UNOCRWOOO,  M.  T. 


University  buildings,  once  the  home  of  a  prince,  now  frequented  by 
six  thousand  five  hundred  students 


wmPiiJA'X 


EDUCATION  301 

cally,  and,  consequently,  mentally,  unfit  for  the 
strenuous  battle  before  him.  For  that  year  his 
brain  rests,  his  body  is  trained  and  steeled,  and  he 
reenters  the  lists  as  a  powerful,  fully  developed 
man.  If  he  has  chosen  a  professional  career  he 
then  passes  into  the  university,  which  requires  of 
him  the  first-class  Gymnasium  standard,  but  once 
he  has  passed  her  portals  she  takes  no  further  notice 
of  him.  He  can  study  or  ^'bummel,"  just  as  he 
pleases.  He  is  then  more  than  ever  a  voluntary 
worker,  working  for  his  own  advancement  and 
benefit,  and  it  is  unnecessary,  therefore,  to  force  or 
control  him.  Except  for  the  examination  at  the 
end  of  his  career,  the  German  student  is  under  no 
sort  of  surveillance,  and  the  lectures  are  only  there 
to  lend  him  an  indirect  and  additional  assistance. 
To  all  practical  purposes  he  must  study  by  himself, 
and  his  whole  previous  education  has  prepared  him 
for  the  task.  The  foundations,  whatever  they  cost, 
are  at  least  firm  and  secure.  He  can  continue  to 
build  on  alone. 

A  girPs  education — and  here  the  superiority  to 
the  English  system  as  regards  results  is  the  most 
marked — is  carried  on  on  almost  the  same  lines  as 
the  boy's,  with  the  difference  that  private  schools 
enjoy  a  degree  more  favor.    Many  parents  object  to 


c. 


302  THE   GERMANS 

the  inevitable  undesirable  elements  which  find  their 
way  into  the  town  schools,  and  prefer  to  send  their 
daughters  either  to  the  boarding  or  private  day 
schools.  The  former  does  not  abound  in  the  same 
numbers  or  the  same  dimensions  as  in  England.  In 
Karlsruhe  there  is  a  "model"  boarding-school 
under  the  direction  of  the  Dowager  Grand-Duchess 
— a  fine  building  allowing  for  about  sixty  pupils, 
and  fitted  up  with  every  imaginable  convenience. 

In  many  ways  it  is  equal  to  anything  I  have  seen 
in  England — especially  where  the  domestic  and 
feminine  side  of  the  education  is  concerned.  Each 
class,  for  instance,  has  its  own  sitting-room — charm- 
^  ing  little  boudoirs,  kept  in  the  most  immaculate 
I  l/f/^iorder,  and  characterized  by  many  dainty  indi- 
vidual touches.  The  cubicles,  with  their  hot  and 
cold  water,  wash-hand-stands,  the  luxurious  bath- 
rooms, the  broad  airy  passages  and  classrooms,  the 
general  air  of  freshness  and  cleanliness,  changed  all 
my  previously  conceived  theories  as  regards  Ger- 
man boarding-schools,  and  even  the  English  people 
who  went  with  me  on  my  tour  of  inspection  were 
.  compelled  to  admiration.  Yet  it  was  an  essentially 
German  school,  as  we  were  quickly  reminded,  a 
few  Backfische  in  the  school  uniform,  with  fresh 
cheeks  and  tightly  braided  hair,  who  greeted  us  on 


EDUCATION  303 

the  staircase  with  a  profound  curtsey,  being  enough 
to  bring  us  back  to  the  reality.  Also  the  longer 
school  hours,  the  fewer  holidays,  the  general 
indifference  to  sport,  the  moderate  fees,  were  mark- 
edly German  features.  No  doubt  here  the  educa- 
tional years  pass  happily  enough,  with  less  of  the 
usual  strain  and  stress,  but  such  a  school  and  such 
an  education  is  the  exception  rather  than  the  rule. 

Although  the  fees  are  so  low — £70  a  year  is,  I 
believe,  the  charge  made  for  German  pupils — they 
are  still  a  large  consideration  for  German  parents. 
They  argue  that  an  equally  thorough  and  perhaps 
broader  education  can  be  obtained  at  the  town 
school  for  sixty  marks  a  year,  and  that  it  is,  more- 
over, a  mistake  to  send  children  away  from  home 
in  the  most  impressionable  years  of  their  life.  As  a 
rule  they  send  their  daughters  into  what  is  called 
the  Hohere  Tochter  Schule,  an  equivalent  for  our 
High  School,  and  there  she  can  remain  to  the  end 
of  her  education.  Those  who  wish  to  study  later  at 
a  university  enter  the  Madchen  Gymnasium,  which 
is  conducted  on  exactly  the  same  lines  as  the  boys' 
Gymnasium.  Up  to  the  present,  Karlsruhe  is  one 
of  the  few  towns  that  have  a  separate  institution  for 
girls.  In  Mannheim,  for  instance,  the  girls  attend 
the  same  Gymnasium  as  the  boys,  and  the  experi- 


304  THE    GERMANS 

ment  of  mixed  classes  has  proved  successful,  both 
sexes  being  stimulated  to  do  their  utmost.  This  Gym- 
nasium education  is  unrivaled.  Compare  a  German 
girl  who  has  been  through  the  course  with  an  Eng- 
lish school-girl  of  the  same  age,  and  one  is  struck 
not  only  by  the  variety  of  the  former's  knowledge, 
but  by  its  definiteness,  its  thoroughness.  She  has 
not  merely  "heard  of  things,"  which  is  about  all 
the  English  girls  can  say  when  questioned.  She 
knows,  and  knows  intelligently,  not  by  any  means 
as  a  parrot  who  has  been  drilled  with  a  few  sen- 
tences. 

No  doubt  she  has  worked  twice  as  hard  as  her 
English  cousin,  as  the  school  hours  show.  The 
ordinary  school-girl  in  Germany  works  from  eight 
o'clock  to  one  o'clock,  with  fifteen  minutes'  break, 
and  again  in  the  afternoon  from  three  to  five.  Be- 
sides that  she  has  her  extra  lessons,  practicing,  and 
a  heavy  load  of  home  work.  It  is  not  at  all  unusual 
for  quite  young  girls  to  work  late  into  the  evening, 
and  even  into  the  night,  and  the  sallow  faces  and 
short-sighted  eyes  which  so  often  strike  one  in  this 
country  can  often  be  traced  back  to  overwork  and 
lack  of  exercise.  On  the  whole,  one  is  surprised 
that  there  are  not  more  cases  of  mental  and  physical 
breakdown,  and  my  observations  have  led  me  to 


EDUCATION  305 

conclude  that  the  German  girl  is  at  any  rate  physi- 
cally far  more  capable  of  persistent  labor  than  an 
English  girl.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  latter  could 
stand  the  strain  which  the  former  bears  with  com- 
paratively little  effort.  The  short  sight  and  pale 
faces  are  inevitable,  but  they  are  by  no  means  uni- 
versal, and  it  is  very  rare — far  rarer  than  among 
the  boys — that  a  girl  sustains  serious  or  incurable 
injury  from  her  school  time.  She  seems  made  of 
iron,  without  nerves,  without  the  need  for  relaxa- 
tion or  rest.  She  can  go  on  and  on  and  still  retain 
a  very  remarkable  mental  agility  and  elasticity. 

As  I  write  the  picture  of  two  typical  school-girls 
whom  I  met  on  a  recent  visit  rises  before  my  mind's 
eye.  The  one  attends  a  Gymnasium  for  boys  and 
girls,  the  other  the  town  school,  and  their  work 
hours,  for  our  ideas,  are  preposterous.  Yet  a  live- 
lier, brighter,  more  intelligent  couple  I  have  rarely 
had  the  pleasure  of  encountering.  They  seemed  ab- 
solutely irrepressible  and  remarkably  healthy. 
What  was  more,  their  work  had  no  terrors  for 
them ;  one  heard  no  lamentations  that  the  holidays 
were  at  an  end.  The  Gymnastian  even  took  the 
opportunity  to  learn  all  the  English  she  could,  fill- 
ing up  her  spare  moments  with  an  English  gram- 
mar, and  experimenting  on  me  with  the  result  of 


3o6  THE    GERMANS 

her  researches.  The  other  could  already  talk 
English  fluently  and  with  very  little  accent,  besides 
French,  Italian,  and  Greek,  and  seemed  to  have  a 
wide  and  definite  knowledge  on  subjects  which,  for 
an  English  girl  of  the  same  age,  would  have  been 
closed  books.  It  was  indeed  difficult  to  believe 
that  they  were  only  fourteen  and  fifteen  respec- 
tively, their  ideas,  their  attitude  toward  life  and 
toward  their  work  was  precocious,  but  not  unpleas- 
antly so.  Somehow  or  other  they  had  retained 
their  high  spirits;  they  could  dance  well,  and  en- 
joyed a  certain  amount  of  exercise,  though  games 
played  no  important  part  in  their  program. 

It  was  obvious  that  their  work  was  the  chief  thing, 
and  absorbed  the  chief  part  of  their  interests.  They 
did  not  go  to  school  because  they  had  to,  because 
school  is  a  necessary  evil  attendant  on  youth.  Their 
work  was  something  serious,  the  cultivation  of  the 
mind  something  intensely  desirable.  In  all  this 
they  were  encouraged  by  their  parents,  who  would 
never  have  been  satisfied  with  a  polite  "polish." 
They  also  took  work  seriously,  and  should  their 
children  desire  to  continue  their  studies  or  develop 
a  particular  talent  they  would  gladly  open  the 
road  for  them.  Thus  the  one  girl  will  probably 
devote  herself  to  music,  as  her  elder  sister  has 


EDUCATION  307 

devoted  herself  to  art,  and,  as  her  sister,  when  the 
time  comes  she  will  study  away  from  home.  In  the 
meantime  she  continues  her  ordinary  education 
with  energy,  and  seems  to  find  a  decided  satisfac- 
tion in  the  efifort. 

This  attitude  toward  their  studies  provides  the 
explanation — or  a  part  explanation — for  the  Ger- 
man girl's  educational  superiority.  She  learns  will- 
ingly, with  an  avidity  which  can  not  be  exhausted. 
The  proof  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  voluntary 
continuation  of  her  work  after  her  school-days  arc 
over.  The  numberless  lectures  which  are  held  in 
Karlsruhe  during  the  year  are  crowded  by  women 
and  young  girls  who  have  just  left  school;  the 
Kranzchen,  of  which  I  have  already  spoken,  where 
they  meet  together  either  to  read  or  speak  some  for- 
eign tongue,  are  all  organized  out  of  the  need  to  go 
on  with,  or  at  any  rate  keep  up,  what  they  have 
learned,  and  this  need  continues  right  through 
their  life.  At  a  time  when  the  English  woman  will 
laughingly  tell  you,  "Oh,  I  have  forgotten  all  that 
— my  school-days  are  so  far  behind  me,"  the  Ger- 
man woman  will  be  able  to  display  a  mind  kept 
bright  with  patient,  steadfast,  intellectual  burnish- 
ing. 

I  do  not  wish  to  put  the  case  in  a  more  bril- 


3o8  THE   GERMANS 

liant  light  than  the  truth  admits.  I  know  some  very 
dull  and  stupid  German  women,  and  some  whose 
knowledge  consists  of  a  few  showy  foreign  sen- 
tences; what  I  wish  to  convey  is,  that  taking  an 
averagely  intelligent  type  from  both  races,  the  Ger- 
man woman  has  the  broader  intellectual  outlook 
and  the  firmer  intellectual  basis.  No  doubt  she 
pays  for  it.  However  full  of  interest  her  school- 
days may  have  been,  they  can  not  have  been  the 
happy,  cloudless,  irresponsible  days  which  the 
English  woman  can  look  back  upon  in  after-life, 
and  she  has,  like  her  brother,  the  failings  which  a 
home  upbringing  entails — not,  however,  to  the 
same  extent  as  an  English  girl  has  under  the  same 
circumstances. 

It  is  one  of  the  faults  of  the  German  schools 
that  they  make  no  endeavor  whatever  to  build  up 
character,  and  make  no  pretense  of  doing  so.  They 
occupy  themselves  solely  with  the  brains,  and  not 
at  all  with  the  whole  individuality,  of  those  en- 
trusted to  them,  and  consequently  their  influence  Is 
entirely  negative.  A  German  boy  or  girl  takes  after 
his  ht)me,  not  after  his  school.  Fortunately  the 
German  home  life  is  such  as  to  ward  off  the  chief 
failings  which  an  English  home  upbringing  us- 
ually entails.    English  parents,  perhaps  accustomed 


EDUCATION  309 

to  leaving  the  disagreeable  severities  to  others,  err 
on  the  side  of  weakness,  and  when  from  one  cause 
or  another  their  children  are  brought  up  entirely 
at  home,  the  result  is  very  often  pampered  weak- 
lings. German  parents,  on  the  other  hand,  with 
the  whole  responsibility  of  their  children's  char- 
acters upon  their  shoulders,  maintain  a  certain 
Spartan  rigor  and  severity  which  atones  for  the 
lack  of  public  school  discipline,  and  the  hardening, 
strengthening  influence  of  public  school  life.  The 
system  is  not  without  its  advantages.  The  German 
claims,  not  without  justification,  that  his  home  is 
not  so  quickly  or  easily  broken  up,  that  his  children, 
living  constantly  at  home  in  their  most  sensitive 
years,  remain  his  children  to  the  end  of  their  lives. 
In  England,  he  says,  a  girl  is  sent  away  from  home 
and  passes  into  another  sphere  of  influence.  When 
she  comes  back  she  can  not  find  her  place  in  the 
old  world,  and  either  the  family  has  to  yield  to  her 
new  views  or  there  are  all  too  frequent  dissensions. 

"You  teach  your  children  to  be  independent  of 
you,  and  then  afterward  want  to  tie  them  down  to 
your  way  of  living,"  a  German  once  said  to  me. 
"What  can  you  expect  but  trouble?" 

The  German  boy  and  girl  remain  closely  united 
to  the  family  until  their  tastes  and  opinions  are 


3IO  THE    GERMANS 

formed  on  the  family  lines,  and  the  advantage  to 
the  family  unity  in  after  life  is  obvious. 

On  the  whole,  the  German  method  of  education 
springs  from  the  needs  of  the  German  character 
and  mind,  and  its  errors,  therefore,  are  not  so  dis- 
astrous as  they  would  be  in  other  countries,  and  its 
virtues  are  undoubtedly  more  successful.  It  would 
be  as  great  an  absurdity  to  transplant  German  edu- 
cation on  to  English  soil  as  it  would  be  to  trans- 
plant English  ideas  on  to  German.  The  English 
constitution  would  break  down  under  the  strain, 
and  the  English  character  would  revolt  against  the 
inflexibility  of  the  system,  but,  as  the  Germans  have 
learned  from  us,  so  it  is  surely  possible  for  us  to 
learn  from  them.  The  saying  that  the  battle  of 
Waterloo  was  won  on  the  playing-fields  of  Eton 
has  become  dangerous;  it  may  have  been  true  of 
Waterloo — it  will  not  be  true  of  the  future  battles 
of  the  world.  In  the  future  more  will  be  required 
of  the  soldier  than  mere  physical  prowess,  daring, 
and  courage;  he  will  have  to  be  mentally  trained  to 
master  the  most  difficult  problems  of  modern  war- 
fare, and  if  the  German  wins  it  will  be  because  he 
has  combined  physical  culture  with  a  strenuous  de- 
votion to  his  mental  advancement.  He  is  physi- 
cally and  mentally  prepared.     And  if  the  strain 


convfiiawT.  Bv  d^derwooo  a  unocrwocd, 


One  of  the  Old  Round  Towers  in  wall  of  ancient  Nuremberg 


EDUCATION  311 

which  he  puts  upon  himself  and  the  standard 
which  he  has  set  crushes  many  out  of  the  race,  it 
has  this  advantage,  that  only  those  win  who  are 
really  worthy  of  their  success. 

The  high  store  which  is  set  upon  education  seems 
to  penetrate  down  to  the  lowest  classes  in  Germany. 
There  are,  of  course,  the  free  Volkschule — board 
schools — and  supplementary  schools  for  those  who 
wish  to  study  after  their  compulsory  school  time  is 
over,  but  these  features  are  common  to  most  civil- 
ized countries.  The  point  that  is  peculiar  in  Ger- 
many is  not  the  ^provision  for  the  education  of  the 
masses,  but  the  eagerness  with  which  the  provision 
is  seized  upon.  I  mentioned  in  my  last  chapter  that 
a  Society  was  giving  a  Bach  concert  for  the  benefit 
of  the  working-man — that  is  to  say,  the  working- 
man  had  to  pay  20  pf.  for  his  reserved  seat,  while 
we,  the  ordinary  folk,  had  to  pay  50  pf.  and  take 
our  chance. 

When  I  first  heard  of  the  idea  I  was  not  a  lit- 
tle skeptical.  I  was  told  that  the  concert  was  ar- 
ranged by  a  kind  of  workman's  debating  xlub, 
which  usually  occupied  itself  with  all  the  ques- 
tions of  interest  in  art,  politics,  and  social  econ- 
omy, under  the  guidance  of  various  professors.  I 
asked  what  class  of  workman  was  most  represented. 


312  THE   GERMANS 

We  were  at  the  time  walking  in  the  Krieg  Strasse, 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the  factories  out- 
side the  town  discharge  their  workers,  who  stream 
through  the  west  end  to  their  east  end  homes.  As 
a  rule  I  avoid  that  time  of  the  day.  The  crowd  is 
quiet  enough,  but  it  is  undoubtedly  a  crowd,  and 
the  results  of  the  day's  toil  are  very  obvious.  My 
friend  indicated  a  group  that  was  trudging  toward 
us,  dirty,  weary,  and  dilapidated. 

"Those  are  the  sort  of  people  you  will  see  on 
Sunday  evening,"  she  said.  My  doubts  thereupon 
increased,  for  the  grimy,  rough-looking  folk  did 
not  at  all  strike  me  in  the  light  of  possible  Bach  ad- 
mirers. I  have  myself  only  just  reached  the  stage 
— after  much  education — when  I  can  say  with 
truth  that  I  enjoy  listening  to  fugues  and  cantatas, 
and  it  seemed  almost  insulting  to  be  told  that  these 
factory  workers  knew  more  about  such  things  than 
I  did.  On  Sunday,  when  I  took  my  place  at  the 
back  of  the  church,  I  felt  inclined  to  say,  "I  told 
you  so!  Where  are  the  factory  workers  now?"  The 
reserved  places  were  filled  with  a  neatly  dressed, 
freshly  washed  audience,  evidently  belonging  to  the 
small  tradesman  class.  To  tell  the  truth,  there  was 
not  a  perceptible  difference  between  them  and  the 


EDUCATION  313 

usual  Sunday  morning  congregation,  except  that 
they  did  not  cough  so  much. 

"These  are  the  factory  people  in  their  best,"  I 
was  told,  and  indeed  such  proved  to  be  the  case,  for 
out  of  the  one  thousand,  two  hundred  present,  nine 
hundred  were  ordinary  day  laborers  engaged  either 
in  the  factories  or  on  the  railway. 

The  concert,  with  a  preceding  lecture  on  Bach's 
life  and  work,  lasted  over  two  hours,  but  there  was 
not  a  sign  of  weariness  or  boredom.  A  better  be- 
haved audience  could  not  have  been  wished,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  lecturer  and  performers  would  be 
proud  if  they  received  the  same  courteous  attention 
and  interest  from  their  usual  more  fashionable  hear- 
ers. Now,  as  I  know  from  experience,  a  lecture  on 
Bach,  with  a  following  hour  of  the  music  itself,  re- 
quires a  certain  mental  ripeness,  a  certain  amount  of 
trained  intelligence,  to  be  appreciated,  and  I  have 
since  asked  myself — or  rather  others — ^whether  it  is 
the  training  or  the  intelligence  which  has  brought 
the  German  workman  to  such  a  high  standard. 

As  regards  the  training,  I  have  already  men- 
tioned the  ordinary  Volkschule,  which  must  be 
attended  up  to  the  fourteenth  year.  The  education 
provided  is  no  doubt  the  usual  State  education,  but 


314  THE    GERMANS 

the  great  virtue  of  the  German  system  is  its  con- 
tinuation. And  the  continuation  is  owed  to  the 
people  themselves.  It  is  the  people  who  make  use 
of  the  supplementary  schools,  of  the  instruction 
offered  them  during  their  two  years  with  the  col- 
ors. It  is  the  people  who  form  debating  societies, 
who  seek  by  every  means  in  their  power  to  con- 
tinue with  the  foundations  set  up  by  the  com- 
pulsory education  of  the  State.  The  hunger  after 
learning  is  felt  everywhere  and  shows  itself  every- 
where, and  it  must  be  said  to  the  credit  of  those  in 
power  that  everything  is  done  to  satisfy  the  demand. 
In  this  respect  South  Germany  is  the  advance 
guard,  with  little  Baden  as  its  guide  and  example. 
As  I  have  mentioned  before,  the  South  German  of 
every  class  is  quicker  and  more  intelligent  than  his 
Northern  brother,  and  consequently,  the  need  be- 
ing there,  far  more  is  done  for  him.  And  certainly 
in  no  other  State  is  so  much  done  for  the  mental  im- 
provement of  the  lower  classes  as  in  Baden. 

^'If  only  we  had  such  interesting  lectures  and 
concerts  offered  us!"  is  the  whimsical  complaint  of 
the  middle  classes;  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  peo- 
ple are  not  spoiled,  they  are  not  the  pampered  chil- 
dren of  a  crazy  philanthropy,  which  produces 
nothing  but  weaklings  and  beggars.    As  in  other 


EDUCATION  315 

matters,  so  in  his  education,  the  German  workman 
is  self-supporting.  However  little  he  pays,  he  at 
least  pays  something  toward  his  mental  improve- 
ment. It  is  only  a  question  of  a  few  pfennige, 
which  no  doubt  charity  would  be  quite  willing  to 
pay  for  him,  but  wisdom  has  ordered,  ^'Let  him  pay 
it  himself!"  And  that  he  does  pay,  and  pays  will- 
ingly, is  proof  that  he  is  w^orthy  of  the  efforts  made 
on  his  behalf,  and  lifts  the  man  higher  in  his  own 
self-respect  and  in  the  esteem  of  the  world. 

A  little  while  ago  I  asked,  Why  do  foreigners 
still  persist  in  settling  in  this  expensive  country? 
and  I  have  now  another  and  more  definitive  an- 
swer: They  come  for  the  education.  Everything 
which  has  to  do  with  education  is  to  be  had  for  a 
comparative  trifle. 

"Food,  clothing,  and  lodging  are  preposterous," 
a  Polish  student  once  said  to  me;  "but  you  can  get 
the  finest  education  in  the  world  in  any  branch  you 
like  for  next  to  nothing." 

He  was  right;  and  since  the  average  German 
cares  very  little  about  elegance  and  fine  living,  he 
takes  what  is  offered  him  and  is  satisfied.  The 
Conservatoriums,  Art  Schools,  and  Universities  are 
crowded  with  people  who  look  as  though  they 
could  not  afford  the  bare  necessities  of  life,  and 


3i6  THE    GERMANS 

probably  such  is  really  the  case.  Probably  they  can 
not  afford  nourishing  food  or  sufficient  clothes,  but 
they  can  afford  education.  Education  is,  in  fact, 
the  one  thing  which  every  German  must  have  and 
every  German  can  afford. 

"If  we  were  all  soul  and  mind,  what  a  lovely 
cheap  place  Germany  would  be!"  as  my  English 
friend  once  pathetically  observed, 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  POOR  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY 

My  English  friend,  who  has  settled  in  Germany 
for  economy's  sake,  is  very  often  puzzled  by  pro- 
found problems. 

"How  do  the  poor  people  manage  to  exist?"  she 
demanded  one  day.  "For  instance,  I  can  not  buy 
a  good  piece  of  meat  under  i  mark  50  pf.  the 
pound.  How  do  they  manage?  Do  they  get 
double  wages  or  what?" 

"They  certainly  don't  get  double  wages." 

"Don't  they  eat  meat,  then?" 

"They  eat  sausage." 

"Not  proper  meat?" 

"Sometimes — sometimes  horseflesh." 

She  looked  at  me  with  an  expression  on  her  face 
which  said  plainly,  "Then  the  awful  thing  is  really 
true!"  and  then  asked: 

"Where — where  do  they  buy  it?" 

"At  the  shop.  There  are  four  horse-meat  shops 
in  Karlsruhe.  Would  you  like  me  to  buy  you 
some?" 

317 


3i8  THE    GERMANS 

She  repressed  a  shudder,  and  then,  curiosity  get- 
ting the  better  of  disgust,  she  admitted  that  she 
would  just  like  to  see  a  piece.  I  thereupon  plunged 
into  the  so-called  slums  and  procured  a  pound  of 
the  best  horseflesh  for  the  sum  of  15  pf.  The  shop 
was  crowded  with  purchasers,  and  by  no  means  of 
the  poorest  class,  and  everything  was  as  clean  and 
appetizing  as  in  any  ordinary  butcher's.  I  re- 
turned home  with  my  purchase  and  displayed  it  in 
triumph.  My  English  friend  considered  it  at  first 
with  strong  prejudice,  and  afterward  with  a  tend- 
ency to  relent. 

"It  doesn't  look  so  bad.  Do  they  really  like  it?" 
I  told  her  that  I  believed  so,  that  in  fact  it  was 
in  many  cases  far  better  meat  than  that  which  our 
own  people  eat,  and  suggested  that  she  should  try  a 
piece.  Her  curiosity,  however,  had  its  limits,  but 
it  was  evident  that  the  horseflesh  bogey  had  lost 
something  of  its  blood-curdling  effectiveness  as  far 
as  she  was  concerned.  I  had  not  exaggerated  in 
saying  that  a  piece  of  young  horseflesh  is  equal  to 
the  stuff  sold  to  our  poor  as  beef,  and  there  is  no 
secrecy  made  about  its  sale.  The  shops  at  which  it 
can  be  procured  describe  themselves  faithfully  as 
"Pferdefleisch  Handler,"  and  the  people  who  buy 
know  perfectly  well  what  they  are  doing. 


THE   POOR  319 

In  Polizei  Deutchland  it  would  be  impossible 
for  a  butcher  to  cheat  his  customers,  and  the  talk 
about  horse-meat  sausages,  etc.,  is  pure  nonsense. 
No  doubt  there  are  horse-meat  sausages,  but  the 
people  who  buy  them  have  no  illusions  on  the  mat- 
ter. As  a  rule,  however,  the  cheap  sausage  eaten  by 
the  people  is  composed  of  the  waste  pieces  of  veal, 
mutton  and  beef  of  which  the  butcher  can  make  no 
other  use.  All  the  slaughter-houses  are  under  the 
strictest  control,  and  the  punishment  for  fraud  in 
this  respect  is  so  heavy  that  it  is  worth  nobody's 
while  to  run  the  risk  of  passing  bad  or  inferior  meat 
on  to  the  public  under  a  false  designation.  On  the 
whole  the  German — especially  the  South  German 
—is  not  a  very  great  meat  eater.  Even  if  he  could 
afford  to  buy  the  best,  I  doubt  if  he  would  forsake 
his  usual  menu,  which  consists  for  the  most  part  of 
potatoes,  fish,  sausage,  and  bread — not  the  so-called 
"black  bread"  of  which  we  have  heard  so  much. 

The  South  German,  it  must  be  observed,  is  better 
off  and  more  luxurious  than  the  North  German. 
Consequently  his  food  is  more  delicate,  and  the 
black  bread  of  North  Germany  is  not  eaten  in  these 
parts.  The  ordinary  workman  eats  either  white 
bread  or  a  mixture  of  rye  and  wheat,  which  makes 
not  the  slightest  pretensions  to  being  black.    It  is  a 


320  THE    GERMANS 

light  brown  color,  nourishing,  cheap,  somewhat  in- 
digestible, but  for  a  sturdy  constitution  quite  enjoy- 
able. The  richest  people  have  it  on  their  tables, 
and  it  forms  an  excellent  change  when  one  is  weary 
of  the  more  delicate  Brotchens.  In  North  Ger- 
many "black  bread"  is  eaten,  but  the  British  work- 
man need  waste  no  sympathy  on  his  ill-used 
German  cousin  on  that  account.  The  German 
cousin  is  perfectly  satisfied  with  his  black  bread, 
and  would  no  doubt  find  wheat  bread  both  flat  and 
uninteresting.  In  fact  the  German,  whether  from 
north  or  south,  is  not  very  particular  about  his  food. 
He  eats  because  he  is  hungry,  and  as  long  as  what 
he  eats  sustains  and  nourishes  him,  he  does  not  care 
what  the  quality  is.  Nothing,  for  instance,  could 
be  more  simple  than  the  fare  with  which  an  ordi- 
nary German  servant  is  satisfied.  For  breakfast  a  cup 
of  coffee,  a  piece  of  bread  without  butter;  for  din- 
ner, soup,  meat,  and  potatoes ;  for  tea,  again  plain 
bread;  for  supper,  a  piece  of  sausage,  a  glass  of 
beer,  and  more  bread.  Such  is  the  daily  menu.  If 
they  are  given  puddings,  it  is  regarded  as  a  luxury 
which  they  neither  expect  nor  particularly  appre- 
ciate. On  this  food  they  perform  about  double  the 
work  which  an  English  domestic  accomplishes,  re- 
ceive lower  wages,  and  are  cheerful  and  contented. 


THE    POOR  321 

A  German  servant  is  really  a  treasure,  and  that 
she  is  very  difficult  to  transplant  is  a  fact  which 
English  people  who  have  experienced  her  honesty, 
industry,  and  modesty  regret  bitterly.  Since  in  my 
^'German  Year"  I  wish  to  describe,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, only  what  I  have  actually  seen,  I  can  not  do 
better  than  take  our  own  servants  and  their  families 
as  typical  types  of  the  lower  classes.  Their  method 
of  living,  their  wages,  and  their  condition  form  a 
safe  average  from  which  one  can  judge  the  whole 
German  people.  Some  are  better  off,  some  poorer, 
but  the  great  mass  follow  the  middle  path,  which 
I  shall  attempt  to  describe. 

For  something  like  ten  years  our  servants  have 
all  been  recruited  from  the  same  family.  We 
started  with  the  two  eldest  sisters,  who,  of  course, 
got  married,  and  we  have  at  present  the  younger 
members,  who,  of  course,  are  going  to  get  married 
as  soon  as  the  necessary  dot  is  there.  The  husbands 
of  the  eldest  sisters  are  workmen  on  the  railway 
here,  so  that  we  have  every  opportunity  to  study 
their  ways  and  means.  I  will,  however,  begin  at 
the  beginning,  and  finish  up,  as  in  the  novels,  with 
the  married  state.  Our  young  cook,  then,  is  what 
we  in  England  would  call  a  good  plain  cook.  She 
can  not  perform  any  great  culinary  feats,  but  she  is 


322  THE    GERMANS 

to  be  relied  upon  with  all  ordinary  matters;  and  if 
ever  there  should  happen  to  be  a  pinch  too  much  or 
a  pinch  too  little  salt  in  the  soup,  she  is  so  con- 
science-stricken and  wretched  that  we  hide  the  dis- 
aster from  her  by  every  means  in  our  power.  For 
her  labors  on  our  behalf  she  receives  £i8  a  year. 
A  first-class  cook  gets  from  £20  to  £23,  but  our 
Freda  makes  no  pretensions  to  being  anything  else 
but  plain.  Her  sister,  as  housemaid,  receives  £15, 
and  is  the  most  hard-working  person  I  have  ever 
met.  She  keeps  our  ten  rooms  in  perfect  order,  and 
no  matter  how  many  guests  we  may  have  she  rises 
to  the  occasion  with  a  cheery  good-will  which  is 
quite  refreshing.  At  such  times,  as  an  ease  to  our 
conscience,  we  insist  on  having  a  small  boy  to  do 
the  heavier  work,  but  she  looks  upon  him  with  un- 
concealed contempt,  and  on  his  assistance  as  a 
veiled  insult. 

Their  daily  food  I  have  already  described. 
Their  dress  is  simplicity  itself.  Both  object 
strongly  to  black  dresses  and  cap  and  apron,  and 
will  only  assume  these  articles  of  elegance  on  great 
occasions.  On  Sundays  both  appear  very  neatly 
and  quietly  attired,  and  with  the  addition  of  the 
hat,  which  in  every-day  life  is  discarded.  A  Ger- 
man servant,  no  matter  how  superior,  would  not 


THE   POOR  323 

think  of  going  to  market  with  anything  but  a  shawl 
over  her  head,  and,  as  a  rule,  not  even  a  shawl  is 
used.  Both  girls  are  intelligent,  with  an  average 
share  of  common  sense,  or  "Mutterwitz,"  as  they 
would  call  it,  but  neither  have  manifested  any  de- 
sire to  play  the  piano,  ride  our  bicycles,  or  read 
our  latest  novels.  Their  pleasures  consist  of  a  Sun- 
day afternoon  visit  to  their  married  relations,  a 
walk  in  the  Stadtgarten  with  their  friends,  and  a 
glass  of  beer  while  they  listen  to  the  band — this, 
however,  as  a  luxury.  Once  a  year  we  send  them  to 
the  theater,  and  once  a  year  their  Schatz  takes  them 
to  the  Kaiser  Ball,  and  these  are  the  red-letter 
events.  It  is  little  enough,  and  yet  they  are  the 
cheeriest  couple  in  the  world,  and  in  spite  of  their 
low  wages  they  have  saved  quite  a  nice  little  sum — 
nearly  the  required  £50.  At  Christmas,  it  is  true, 
we  give  them  money  as  presents,  and  this  adds  con- 
siderably to  the  nest-egg. 

Besides  their  wages,  we  also  pay  their  share  to 
the  compulsory  accident,  illness,  and  old-age  insur- 
ance. We  are  not  obliged  to  do  so,  but  if  we  did 
not  it  would  mean  that  they  would  require  more 
wages,  so  that  it  amounts  to  the  same.  Every  work- 
ing man  and  woman  in  Germany  must  be  in  these 
three  insurances,  and  the  payments  are  arranged  in 


324  THE    GERMANS 

classes  according  to  the  wages  received.  Thus, 
whatever  happens  to  our  two  girls,  they  are  pro- 
vided for.  In  the  case  of  illness  or  accident  they 
can  claim  the  attendance  of  any  doctor  they  choose, 
hospital  nursing,  and  all  the  medicines  ordered  for 
them,  free  of  charge.  Should  they  be  disabled  for 
life,  they  receive  a  pension  which  is  in  any  case 
granted  them  from  their  seventh  year.  Half  of  the 
payments  to  these  insurances  must  be  paid  by  the 
employer,  the  other  half  by  the  employee,  but  very 
often,  like  ourselves,  the  employer  prefers  to  take 
the  whole  burden  upon  his  shoulders.  For  our  two 
servants  we  pay  about  sixty  marks  a  year,  which,  if 
an  additional  tax,  is  more  than  balanced  by  the  low 
wages  and  also  by  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
we  are  free  from  all  responsibility.  Should  they 
marry  and  become  independent,  they  can,  if  they 
wish,  cease  to  belong  to  the  insurances,  and  receive 
then  the  half  of  that  which  they  have  already  paid 
in.  The  wise  ones,  however,  prefer  to  continue  the 
payments,  and  thus  guarantee  for  themselves  a  cer- 
tain security  in  all  misfortune. 

As  to  the  way  the  poorer  classes  live,  I  can  not 
do  better  than  describe  the  homes  of  our  two  old 
servants.  Bten-entendu,  they  are  respectable,  hard- 
working people  of  a  certain  position — that  is  to  say. 


THE    POOR  325 

they  count  themselves  something  better  than  the 
day  laborer  or  factory  hand.  The  husband  of  the 
one  is  a  shunter  on  the  railway,  and  therefore,  if 
you  argue  it  out  on  German  lines,  a  State  official, 
and  therefore  a  very  superior  person.  His  hours 
vary:  every  third  night  he  is  on  duty  from  nine 
o'clock  till  six  o'clock  in  the  morning;  on  other 
days,  from  six  in  the  morning  till  one  o'clock;  and 
for  this  he  receives  4.50  per  diem.  As  there  are 
no  children,  the  wife  also  goes  out  as  "help" — not  a 
charwoman — for  which  she  is  paid  2.50,  though 
she  could,  if  she  chose,  get  more  at  a  large  laundry. 
Laundry  work,  however,  infers  a  step  downward  in 
the  social  scale,  and  of  course,  like  everybody  else 
in  Germany,  she  has  too  much  "Standes  Ehre"  to 
lower  herself  for  an  extra  50  pf.  Their  joint  in- 
come, therefore,  is  about  2660  marks,  or  £133,  but 
of  this  only  the  husband's  share — £82 — is  certain. 
For  their  bedroom,  living-room,  and  kitchen  they 
pay  £16  a  year,  and  added  to  this  is  their  income 
tax  of  about  £2,  and  a  small  sum  for  their  insur- 
ances. 

They  live  comfortably,  but,  for  English  ideas, 
frugally.  There  is  no  extravagance  or  luxury 
In  their  life.  Their  little  rooms  on  the  third 
floor  in  a  decent  part  of  the  town,  though  kept  in 


326  THE    GERMANS 

scrupulous  cleanliness  and  order,  and  brightened 
with  a  few  plants  on  the  window-sill,  contain  noth- 
ing but  the  respectable  necessities.  In  all  this  they 
are  typical  German  people.  Others  may  be  worse 
or  better  paid,  according  to  their  trade  and  abil- 
ities, but  in  thrift,  in  abstemiousness,  in  a  certain 
Spartan  indifference  to  all  forms  of  luxury  and 
self-indulgence,  they  represent  the  great  bulk  of  the 
lower  classes.  In  their  sphere  of  life,  as  every- 
where, money  is,  after  all,  a  small  matter  compared 
to  the  use  made  of  it.  Were  the  English  workman 
twice  as  well  paid  as  the  German,  it  is  doubtful  if 
he  would  be  as  well  off  or  so  well  provided  for.  He 
has  learned-^or  been  taught — to  depend  on  charity, 
and  to  expect  more  than  his  position  in  the  social 
system  warrants,  and  the  consequence  is  a  dislike 
for  work,  discontent,  thriftlessness,  or  at  any  rate 
a  financial  state  which  provides  nothing  for  a  rainy 
to-morrow.  The  German  is  still,  and  for  the  bene- 
fit of  his  country  it  is  to  be  hoped  he  will  remain, 
a  hard  worker,  who  asks  less  than  life  offers  him. 
The  consequence  is  as  inevitable.  When  the  rainy 
day  comes,  when  work  fails,  as  it  does  often  enough, 
there  is  always  something  to  fall  back  upon. 

In  Germany  the  misery  which  we  have  grown  to 
regard  as  a  necessary  evil  is  remarkable  for  its  ab- 


eorvmaHT.  bv  dnocbwooo  a  unoebwood, 


The  man  in  the  gateway  is  a  mechanic  earning  $1.25  a  day.     Through  an 
association  of  workmen  he  bought  and  is  paying  for  this  $2000  house 


THE    POOR  327 

sence.  During  last  winter  there  were  five  hundred 
workmen  out  of  employment  in  Karlsruhe — an  un- 
usually large  number,  I  was  told — but  I  did  not  in 
all  my  wanderings  discover  one  case  of  absolute 
destitution.  The  unemployed  were  all  men,  neatly 
dressed,  well  fed  and  respectable-looking.  I  used 
to  watch  them  standing  about  the  Arbeitsbureau 
waiting  for  the  doors  to  open,  and  their  appearance 
seemed  to  indicate  a  calm  patience  in  the  face  of  a 
temporary  "bad  time."  Certainly  none  of  them 
looked  starved,  and  certainly  none  of  them  had 
spent  the  night  out  of  doors.  It  was  noteworthy  that 
not  a  single  woman  presented  herself  as  being  un- 
able to  obtain  work.  It  may  be  said  with  justice 
that  a  residenz  like  Karlsruhe  is  not  a  fair  ex- 
ample, but  in  other  towns  I  have  made  the  same  ob- 
servations. Unemployed  exist  everywhere,  but 
nowhere  have  I  witnessed  cases  of  real  distress. 

The  feature  that  must  strike  the  foreigner  when 
he  walks  through  the  streets  of  a  German  city  is 
that  there  are  no  loafers,  no  ragged  children,  no 
beggars.  The  slouching,  hands-in-pocket,  miser- 
able objects  which  infest  our  towns,  trying  to  pick 
up  a  livelihood  with  stray  jobs,  are  rarities  such  as 
I  have  not  met  anywhere  in  this  country.  No  doubt 
the  State  does  a  great  deal  for  the  people,  but,  be 


328  THE    GERMANS 

it  said  to  their  credit,  they  owe  their  comparative 
welfare  chiefly  to  themselves.  It  is  unusual  for  a 
workman  to  drink  away  his  wages,  still  more  un- 
usual for  the  woman  to  do  so,  and  the  whole  ten- 
dency is  to  save,  to  force  the  way  upward  so  that 
the  children  shall  start  life  a  step  higher  than  the 
parents. 

As  to  the  children,  Karlsruhe  at  least  seems  to 
swarm  with  them,  and  I  am  not  at  all  surprised 
to  hear  that  Germany's  population  is  increasing 
at  the  rate  of  a  million  a  year.  On  the  whole,  they 
are  an  orderly  crowd,  clean  and  neatly  dressed, 
with  nothing  of  the  ragamuffin  about  them  either  in 
appearance  or  manners.  They  do  not,  however, 
strike  me  as  being  particularly  healthy.  Whether 
it  is  the  dry  climate,  or  the  work,  or  the  food,  I  do 
not  know,  but  a  pair  of  rosy  cheeks  is  the  exception 
rather  than  the  rule.  I  fancy  the  parents  are  chiefly 
to  blame  both  for  the  pale  faces  and  the  bow  legs 
which  attract  the  stranger's  notice.  For  German 
parents  belonging  to  the  lower  classes,  if  very  de- 
voted, have  decidedly  old-fashioned  and  primitive 
ideas  as  regards  the  rearing  of  children,  and  are  not 
easy  to  convert  to  modern  ways.  Fortunately,  the 
results  of  their  experiments  seem  to  pass  off  later  on 
in  life,  since  the  grown-up  population  presents,  on 


THE    POOR  329 

the  whole,  a  sturdy,  healthy,  and  even  handsome 
appearance. 

In  the  more  remote  parts  of  the  country,  as  in 
the  Black  Forest,  the  case  is  more  serious.  The 
Black  Forest  peasant  is  more  than  old-fashioned — 
in  his  ideas  on  health  and  hygiene  he  dates  back  a 
couple  of  hundred  years,  and,  conservative  as  he  is, 
he  refuses  to  be  hurried  on  with  the  times.  He 
shuts  himself  up  in  his  picturesque  house,  closes  the 
tiny  windows,  and  while  the  thick  snow  builds 
itself  round  him,  he  lives  in  an  atmosphere  which 
would  ruin  all  normal  constitutions.  I  once  made 
an  observation  on  the  closed  windows  to  a  friend, 
and  her  significant  retort  was  that  perhaps  it  was 
just  as  well  for  the  Black  Forest.  Certainly, 
charming  though  they  are,  perched  up  in  their 
loneliness  on  the  mountain-side,  these  forest  homes 
leave  much  to  be  desired  as  regards  hygiene,  and 
not  even  the  magnificent  pine  air  can  counterbal- 
ance the  effects  of  the  peasant's  mode  of  life.  Nat- 
urally the  children  suffer  the  most.  They  are  badly 
fed,  not  because  their  parents  are  poor,  but  because 
the  children  are  expected  to  grow  up  without  any 
particular  care  being  taken  of  them.  The  Black 
Forester  is  even  reproached  with  giving  more  at- 
tention to  his  pigs  than  to  his  offspring,  and  I  have 


330  THE    GERMANS 

not  the  least  doubt  that  of  the  two  the  pigs  get  the 
best  food. 

Thanks  to  this  and  other  causes,  there  is  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  Cretinism  in  the  more  secluded  vil- 
lages, and  the  young  populace  impress  me  as  either 
unhealthy  or  dull  and  stupid.  There  are  excep- 
tions, of  course,  and  among  the  grown-up  members 
one  sometimes  finds  charming  girls'  faces  and  men 
whose  bold,  finely  cut  features  might  belong  to 
aristocrats  of  the  purest  blood.  In  their  way  many 
of  them  are  aristocrats  and  often  very  rich  into  the 
bargain.  Their  Hof  or  farm  may  have  been  in  the 
family  for  generations,  and  since  they  never  allow 
their  children  to  marry  into  a  poorer  or  lower  class, 
their  wealth  and  position  increase  steadily.  They 
are  intensely  proud,  reserved,  gloomy,  and  tena- 
cious, these  Black  Forest  folk,  but  their  obstinacy 
is  mingled  with  a  decided  business  ability,  and  the 
man  who  beats  them  in  a  bargain  has  good  reason 
to  flatter  himself.  On  the  other  hand  they  are 
strictly  honest,  and  behind  their  slowness  and  re- 
serve, kindly  and  hospitable.  Their  geographical 
position  added  to  their  natural  exclusiveness  has 
made  them  a  race  apart — altogether  different  in 
character  and  ideas  to  the  people  who  inhabit  the 
lowland  villages,  the  most  fascinating,  picturesque 
villages  in  the  world. 


THE   POOR  331 

This  spring  a  few  friends  and  I  paid  a  visit  to 
Berghausen,  a  little  country  "Nest"  a  few  miles 
from  Karlsruhe,  and  spent  the  day  wandering 
about  the  streets,  making  sketches,  taking  photo- 
graphs, talking  to  the  people,  and,  generally  speak- 
ing, causing  a  mild  sensation  among  the  simple 
folk,  who  inquired  politely  if  they  might  have  a 
photo,  or  a  look  into  the  sketch-books,  whereupon, 
the  latter  boon  being  granted,  they  expressed  the 
profoundest  admiration  in  true  German  fashion. 
That  they  usually  held  the  picture  upside  down 
made  not  the  slightest  difference  to  them,  though  it 
successfully  dampened  the  artist's  gratification. 
These  people  and  their  home  have  for  me  an  inex- 
haustible attraction — in  spite  of  the  sometimes  very 
noticeable  countrified  atmosphere.  There  are  little 
by-streets  and  quaint  corners  in  this  old  Berg- 
hausen, whose  charm  never  diminishes.  The  world 
seems  to  have  passed  them  by  forgotten ;  the  dust  of 
ages  lies  on  the  old  rickety  staircases;  worm-eaten 
doors  hang  on  their  rusty  hinges  as  though  they  had 
been  thrown  open  by  some  inhabitant  who  had 
never  returned;  a  sunny  peace  rests  on  the  disor- 
derly courtyard,  where  a  cat  basks  on  a  bed  of 
straw  amidst  a  contented  family  of  geese;  overhead 
on  the  thatched  roof  I  can  see  a  stork's  nest,  and 


332  THE    GERMANS 

Frau  Storch  herself,  just  arrived  from  Egypt  and 
very  proud  of  the  accommodation  which  the  vil- 
lagers— who  love  her — have  prepared  for  her  re- 
turn. Suddenly  the  drowsy  silence  is  broken  by  the 
sound  of  shuffling  footsteps ;  a  woman  comes  out  on 
the  narrow  stairway  and  nods  and  smiles  at  us. 

^'Tag!  Ah,  you  have  come  to  paint?  Ja,  Ja,  das 
istschon!" 

Encouraged  by  her  kindly  face  and  manner,  I 
ask  her  to  show  us  over  her  home,  and  she  takes  us 
through  the  minute  kitchen  into  the  sitting-room, 
and  thence  into  the  bedroom — the  two  rooms  which 
compose  her  home.  Everything  is  spotlessly  clean 
and  neat.  A  motto — no  German  home  is  complete 
without  a  motto — hangs  over  the  wooden  bedsteads ; 
a  few  flower-pots  stand  on  the  tiny  window-sill ;  im- 
maculate white  curtains  frame  the  absurd  little 
windows,  which  are  thrown  wide  open  to  admit  the 
fresh  spring  air.  Our  hostess  is  very  proud  of  all 
she  has  to  show  us,  and  only  regrets  that  her  neigh- 
bors are  not  at  home. 

"Their  rooms  are  much,  much  more  beautiful," 
she  says,  with  sincere,  unenvying  admiration.  She 
then  produces  her  three  small  children,  who  have 
been  playing  about  in  the  street  outside.  There  was 
a  fourth,  she  told  us,  but  he  was  at  school. 


THE   POOR  333 

"I  am  happier  when  he  is  at  home,"  she  said, 
"for  then  he  looks  after  his  little  sisters." 

That,  indeed,  seems  the  natural  duty  of  all  the 
boys,  however  young  they  may  be.  At  every  corner 
one  sees  a  mite  of  seven  or  eight  years  old  in  charge 
of  a  small  army  of  babies,  over  whom  he  watches 
with  paternal  solicitude.  He  and  the  babies  form 
an  altogether  charming  picture.  They  are  just 
dirty  enough  to  be  amusingly  human,  and  just  clean 
enough  to  reveal  the  fact  that  they  are  washed  every 
night  and  carefully  looked  after.  Some  of  the  small 
faces  are  strikingly  pretty,  with  rosy  complexions, 
flaxen  hair  arranged  in  ridiculous  little  plaits,  and, 
like  most  of  their  race,  fine,  expressive  eyes.  Some 
of  them  are  barefooted  and  otherwise  scantily  clad, 
but  that  is  merely  their  summer  attire,  which  they 
assume  because  it  is  an  agreeable  fashion,  and  not 
in  the  least  because  they  are  poor.  The  round, 
healthy  cheeks  and  sturdy  limbs  witness  to  it  that 
they  are  not  starved;  and  the  frankness  with  which 
our  advances  are  received,  the  broad  smiles  and 
quick  answers,  prove  that  hitherto  the  world  had 
treated  them  very  kindly.  Some  of  the  little  girls 
display  a  calculated  coquettishness,  refuse  to  be 
photographed,  are  visibly  delighted  over  our  hum- 


334  THE    GERMANS 

ble  pleadings,  at  last  yield  with  queenly  condescen- 
sion, and  pose  for  us  with  a  strong  eye  for  effect. 

Having  photographed  and  properly  admired  our 
hostess'  family,  we  give  her  our  best  thanks  and  go 
back  to  the  principal  street.  It  is  not  "the  thing" 
to  offer  a  peasant  money  on  such  an  occasion.  She 
would  have  refused  it  with  scorn,  and  we  should 
certainly  have  sunk  in  her  estimation.  She  had  in- 
vited us  as  friends,  and  so  as  friends  we  part. 

In  the  street  a  change  has  taken  place.  A  Doodle- 
sack  Spieler  (bagpipe  player)  has  taken  his  stand 
outside  one  of  the  Gasthaiiser,  and  a  little  crowd 
has  gathered  to  listen  to  his  lugubrious  melodies. 
The  crowd  reveals  many  types.  There  is  the 
peasant  himself,  just  returned  from  the  fields,  top- 
booted,  roughly  dressed,  but  with  a  bronzed,  pleas- 
ant face.  At  his  side  stands  his  wife,  looking 
considerably  older,  but  cheery  and  laughing,  with 
her  arms  akimbo,  her  eyes  twinkling  good-natur- 
edly at  the  bevy  of  urchins  who  dance  about  or 
stand  in  awestruck  interest.  Others  pass  on  their 
way  without  condescending  to  listen.  Women  bear- 
ing heavy  faggots  on  their  heads,  old  women,  the 
grandmothers  of  the  village  one  would  suppose, 
pass  with  their  iron  rake  over  their  shoulders,  and 
look  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left.  They  are 


>.     '      > ' 


'   ,  '      I        >         5       ' 


COPYRIGHT.  BV  OKOERWOOO  A  UNOeRWOOO, 


Women  gathering  barley 


THE   POOR  335 

all  dressed  alike,  a  short,  loose-fitting  jacket,  short 
blue  skirt  and  sabots  forming  the  chief  articles  of 
their  attire.  We  see  some  fine  faces  among  them 
in  spite  of  the  thin  colorless  hair  drawn  straight 
back  and  pinned  in  an  inartistic  but  neat  coil  at  the 
nape  of  the  neck.  Weather-beaten,  toil-worn,  and 
wrinkled  though  they  are,  there  is  character  in  the 
boldly  cut  aquiline  features  and  piercing  gray  eyes 
which  smile  at  you  from  amidst  the  furrows.  That 
is  a  point  which  strikes  the  stranger  first — every- 
body smiles  at  you,  everybody  nods  and  wishes  you 
good-day,  and  if  you  want  to  know  anything  they 
are  all  eagerness  and  goodwill.  We  have  not  been 
more  than  a  few  hours  in  the  village  before  we  are 
the  best  of  friends  all  round.  However,  tea-time  ap- 
proaches, and  we  betake  ourselves  to  the  most  fa- 
mous inn  of  the  village — the  Gasthaus  zum  Laub. 

It  is  a  wonderful  old  place,  with  a  courtyard 
surrounded  by  quaint  oak  galleries  through  whose 
trellises  flowers  have  been  trained  to  blossom.  A 
tame  stork,  wandering  in  majestically  from  the 
garden,  greets  us  with  a  loud  beak-clapping  which 
immediately  calls  forth  mine  host  himself.  Mine 
host  is  one  of  the  aristocrats;  he  can  trace  his  de- 
scent straight  back  two  hundred  years,  during 
which  time  the  inn  has  always  been  in  the  posses- 


336  THE    GERMANS 

sion  of  his  family.  He  is  a  fine  old  fellow,  with 
white  hair,  bright  eyes,  an  eagle  nose,  and  manners 
in  which  there  is  a  certain  dignity,  a  certain  con- 
sciousness of  his  position  and  birth.  The  inn  is  his 
pride,  his  heirloom.  He  shows  us  the  low-built 
dining-room  with  the  handsome  carved  oak  pillars 
and  wainscoting,  the  pictures  presented  to  him  by 
famous  artists,  and  all  his  particular  little  treasures, 
very  much  as  a  grand  seigneur  might  show  you  his 
chateau.  We  become  quite  awestruck,  and  feel  as 
though  it  would  be  an  insult  to  suggest  paying  for 
the  meal  of  excellent  bread  and  honey  and  bad 
coffee  which  he  spreads  before  us.  He,  too,  seems 
to  feel  the  painfulness  of  such  a  low  business  trans- 
action, for  he  disappears  when  the  bill  is  called  for, 
and  a  servant  performs  the  unpleasant  task.  Cer- 
tainly we  have  had  our  money's  worth,  and  one 
thing  I  can  vouch  for — namely,  that  the  peasant 
fare,  as  set  before  us  by  our  host,  is  substantial  and 
nourishing.  When  one  has  devoured  a  piece  of 
country  bread  one  inch  thick  and  five  inches  by 
seven,  with  an  enormous  piece  of  butter  and  any 
quantity  of  honey,  one  feels  fit  to  face  the  next  week 
or  two  without  further  sustenance.  Thus  strength- 
ened we  repair  to  the  small  station,  and  presently 
leave  the  village  regretfully  behind  us. 


THE   POOR  337 

Its  great  charm  is  that  it  is  a  genuine  village,  as 
there  are  hundreds  in  South  Germany;  there  are  no 
squires  or  ''Manor  people"  to  fuss  over  the  in- 
habitants, who  live  their  lives  in  peace.  In  North 
Germany  the  matter  is  different.  There  the  great 
''Gutsbesitzer"  plays  the  part  of  lord,  and  the  vil- 
lagers to  all  intents  and  purposes  "belong"  to  him, 
but  in  this  part  of  the  world  the  great  estate  owners 
can  be  counted  on  one  hand.  For  the  most  part  the 
country  is  divided  into  minute  pocket-handkerchief 
plots  of  land,  without  hedge  or  fence,  which  is  the 
property  of  the  peasant  himself,  and  over  which  he 
disposes  in  complete  independence.  The  cultiva- 
tion of  his  plot  is  his  great  work  in  life,  and  his 
whole  family  assists  him,  the  women  taking  their 
full  share  of  the  burden.  For  the  foreigner  it  is 
at  first  a  curious  and  almost  painful  sight  to  see 
these  women  toiling  in  the  fields  beneath  the  blaze 
of  the  summer  sun,  their  white  head-dress  drawn 
over  their  bronzed,  furrowed  faces,  their  shoulders 
hunched  through  the  long,  continuous  stooping. 

It  is  no  wonder  there  are  so  few  young, women 
to  be  found  in  a  German  village.  The  charming 
barefooted  little  girls  who  play  about  in  the  chief 
street  vanish  from  their  fourteenth  year.  One  sea- 
son's toil  is  enough  to  rub  off  the  first  bloom  of 


338  THE    GERMANS 

youth,  and  at  twenty  they  are  usually  married  and 
have  children  of  their  own  to  add  to  their  burden. 
Gaunt,  figureless,  roughly  clad,  with  sunken  eyes 
and  sharp  features,  the  colorless  hair  scraped 
straight  back  from  the  deeply  lined  foreheads,  they 
might  be  anything  between  thirty  and  forty  years 
of  age,  and  seem  to  exist  solely  to  labor,  without 
any  pleasure  or  recompense  save  the  daily  bread. 

To  all  intents  and  purposes  the  woman  plays  the 
same  part  as  her  husband,  save  that  child-bearing 
is  added  to  her  other  burdens.  She  works  as  hard 
as  he  does,  and  during  the  years  when  her  brothers 
are  serving,  the  chief  responsibility  rests  on  her 
shoulders.  That  she  ages  before  her  time  is  inevi- 
table. A  German  village  seems  full  of  old  women, 
but  they  are  not  really  old — they  are  sometimes 
quite  young,  but  with  their  youth  crushed  out  of 
them  by  the  stress  of  their  existence.  It  must  not  be 
supposed  that  the  man  does  not  take  his  share,  or 
that  the  women  are  nothing  but  beasts  of  burden. 
The  former  does  not,  and  can  not,  spare  himself; 
it  is  not  his  fault  that  in  the  hard  struggle  he  has  to 
make  use  of  every  assistance  in  his  power,  and  the 
woman,  on  her  side,  being  a  true  German,  stands 
by  him  loyally  and  willingly.  There  are  indeed 
fine  men  and  fine  women  in  these  old  villages,  and 


THE   POOR  339 

their  cheery  endurance,  their  good-humor,  intelli- 
gence, and  courage,  is  a  revelation  of  the  power  of 
the  human  character  to  rise  to  the  level  of  the  task 
imposed  upon  it. 

So  much  for  the  dark  side  of  the  picture.  There 
is  a  bright  side — perhaps  much  brighter  than  the 
stranger  would  think  after  a  casual  stroll  through 
a  German  village.  He  must  not  be  misled  by  the 
tumble-down  houses  and  barefooted  children.  It 
is  very  often  not  poverty  but  indifference  to  com- 
fort which  makes  the  peasant  live  as  he  does.  He 
asks  very  little  of  life.  Enough  to  eat,  a  clean  room 
to  live  in,  a  wife  and  children,  and  his  ideal  exist- 
ence is  already  attained.  As  a  rule  these  peasant 
families  are  very  happy  and  peaceful.  The  man  is 
a  steady  worker  and  a  good  father,  the  woman  his 
cheery,  industrious  comrade.  There  is  nothing 
cringing  or  browbeaten  about  either  of  them — 
rather  their  manner  is  frank,  sincere,  not  untouched 
with  a  certain  pride,  perhaps  the  pride  of  honest 
labor  honestly  accomplished.  Their  w^ork  is  their 
life,  and  in  the  peaceful  fulfilment  of  the  duty  near- 
est to  hand  they  find  their  reward  and  their  happi- 
ness. May  the  jerry-builder  of  "reform  cottages" 
and  all  social  reformers  in  general  leave  them  their 
peace! 


340  THE    GERMANS 

Since  I  have  just  dealt  with  matters  rural,  it 
would  be  perhaps  fitting  to  add  a  few  words  on 
ordinary  country  life  in  Germany,  which,  as  far  as 
South  Germany  is  concerned,  is  a  paradox,  since 
country  life,  at  any  rate  in  our  meaning  of  the  term, 
is  non-existent.  In  North  Germany  the  great  land- 
owners live  on  their  estates,  and  the  social  inter- 
course between  them  resembles  our  own,  but  here 
no  one  lives  in  the  country  who  can  possibly  afford 
to  live  elsewhere.  Beautiful  country  houses  are 
practically  unknown,  or  only  used  for  short  periods 
in  the  year  by  the  very  wealthy;  and  anybody  wish- 
ing to  live  out  of  town  would  have  to  reconcile  him- 
self to  complete  isolation  from  his  own  class.  There 
is  no  hunting;  shooting  is  the  sport  of  the  few;  in  a 
word,  all  the  attractions  which  bring  English  house 
parties  together,  and  make  country  life  enjoyable, 
play  no  part  in  this  part  of  the  world.  Here  the 
country  belongs  to  the  peasant,  and  in  describing 
him  I  have  described  the  one  typical  and  predomi- 
nating element  in  South  German  rural  life. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

NATIONAL  SPIRIT 

In  Karlsruhe  I  see  so  many  royalties — Imperial 
and  minor — that  I  feel  quite  as  though  I  were  in 
the  Court  Circle.  Perhaps  I  have  been  particularly 
privileged  in  this  respect,  for  in  the  time  that  I 
have  been  here  the  late  Grand-Duke's  jubilee,  his 
lamented  death,  the  Kaiser  Manceuvers  this  year, 
and  other  similar  important  events  have  gathered 
together  many  crowned  heads  in  the  simple  Karls- 
ruhe palace,  and  as  Karlsruhe  proper  concentrates 
itself  into  quite  a  small  circumference,  it  was 
scarcely  possible  to  go  outside  the  house  without — 
figuratively— running  up  against  the  Emperor  or 
the  Crown  Prince  or  the  Grand-Duke  or  some  other 
potentate,  so  much  so  that  I  am  now  an  adept  at 
Hof  Knixe,  though  they  still  cover  my  English  soul 
with  embarrassment. 

Familiarity  breeds  contempt.  I  do  not  think  in 
this  case  that  there  is  any  question  of  contempt,  but 
it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  in  Germany  royalties  do 

341 


342  THE    GERMANS 

not  cause  the  same  sensation  as  in  England.  One 
sees  too  many  and  too  much  of  them.  Here,  for  in- 
stance, one  meets  the  Grand-Duke — the  whole 
ducal  family,  in  fact — walking  along  the  streets, 
in  the  forest,  shopping,  riding,  driving,  in  the  the- 
ater, everywhere  and  at  all  times,  so  that  an  explo- 
sion of  enthusiasm  on  every  appearance  would  be 
embarrassing  and  exhausting.  It  is  bad  enough  as 
it  is,  and  I  should  think  the  constant  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  bows  and  hat-lifting  with  which  the 
Grand-Duke  is  greeted  must  considerably  mar  the 
pleasure  of  a  walk  through  his  capital.  The  same 
applies  to  other  royalties.  The  Emperor  comes  at 
least  twice  a  year  on  a  visit;  the  Queen  of  Sweden 
spends  a  great  part  of  her  time  at  her  native  Court, 
and  there  is  a  constant  va-et-vient  of  such  great 
people,  so  that  no  one  gets  worked  up  to  any  pitch 
of  excitement  or  interest  when  they  make  their  ap- 
pearance. 

The  first  time  I  went  to  witness  the  arrival  of  the 
Emperor  I  was  filled  with  eagerness,  and  was 
not  a  little  disgusted  at  the  reception  accorded  to 
him.  A  thin  crowd,  a  general  hat-lifting,  a  few 
cheers — that  was  all  and  I  came  home  with  the  im- 
pression that  the  Germans  were  either  the  most  un- 
patriotic people  I  had  ever  met,  or  the  Emperor  the 


NATIONAL    SPIRIT  343 

most  unpopular  monarch.  After  having  witnessed 
the  fourteenth  arrival,  however,  I  feel  that  neither 
supposition  was  correct.  In  the  first  place,  my  own 
eagerness  has  died  a  natural  death.  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  sitting  so  many  times  vis-a-vis  to  his 
Imperial  Majesty  through  the  long  Wagner  operas, 
that  I  feel  there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  going  to 
the  station  to  witness  his  arrival.  No  doubt  that  is 
the  wrong  standpoint.  I  shall  be  told  that  the  peo- 
ple should  go  to  welcome,  not  to  stare — which  is 
very  nice  in  theory,  but  unfortunately,  like  so  many 
theories,  finds  but  little  popularity  in  the  practice. 
The  reason  that  a  crowd  gathers  together  when  a 
great  personage  is  expected  is  that  they  want  to  see 
the  show  and  make  a  noise,  and  if  the  Emperor 
needs  any  consolation  he  may  be  sure  that  those 
who  do  witness  his  arrival  are  there  simply  and 
solely  to  welcome  him.  The  usual  noisy  sightseers 
are  not  present — that  is  the  only  loss. 

Moreover,  the  German  temperament  must  be 
taken  into  consideration  before  passing  judgment. 
The  German  is  an  enthusiast,  but  an  enthusiast  of  a 
very  stolid  type.  There  is  not  a  grain  of  jingoism  In 
his  makeup,  and  when  he  breaks  through  the  wall 
of  seeming  indifference,  he  does  it  in  an  orderly 
way,  and  only  on  really  great  occasions.    Hence 


344  THE    GERMANS 

the  foreigner  ,can  be  surprised  in  two  ways — as  I 
was.  He  can  be  surprised  at  the  every-day  coldness 
of  the  people  as  regards  national  matters,  and  at  the 
passionate,  profound  feeling  which  answers  to  a 
great  call.  I  had,  for  instance,  no  idea  of  the  love 
and  reverence  in  which  the  late  Grand-Duke  was 
held  until  his  jubilee  and  his  death.  The  one  occa- 
sion was  a  revelation  of  an  enthusiastic  devotion 
which  few  rulers  dare  lay  claim  to,  the  other  re- 
vealed a  whole  people  plunged  into  mourning.  It 
is  the  same  in  all  the  other  branches  of  national 
feeling,  and  to  this  placidity  of  temperament  must 
be  added  other  ingredients  which  go  to  make  up  the 
German's  own  peculiar  patriotism.  Germany  is 
the  German's  Fatherland,  but  the  German  is  some- 
thing else  besides  a  German.  He  is  a  Badener,  a 
Bavarian,  a  Saxon,  a  Prussian,  and  his  own  particu- 
lar little  Fatherland,  his  own  particular  sovereign, 
are,  in  every-day  life,  nearer  and  dearer  to  him 
than  the  whole  great  unity  and  its  Imperial  ruler. 
Here,  and  I  suppose  it  is  the  same  in  every  State, 
the  Grand-Duke  has  the  first  place  in  the  people's 
hearts,  the  Emperor  the  second.  It  is  only  natural 
that  it  should  be  so,  and  in  many  ways  it  has  its 
great  advantages.  The  Emperor  is  a  splendid,  far- 
off  figure,  ruling  the  destinies  of  the  Empire;  the 


NATIONAL  SPIRIT  345 

Grand-Duke  is  the  direct  father  of  his  people;  he 
goes  among  them,  lives  among  them,  is  present 
at  all  their  festivities,  shares  in  all  their  joys  and 
sorrows,  assists  financially  and  by  his  presence  in 
every  social  movement.  There  is  no  one,  however 
small  or  insignificant,  who  is  not,  as  it  were,  in 
touch  with  the  ruling  house,  who  is  not  within 
reach  of  the  Grand-Duke's  help  and  sympathy.  I 
remember  an  amusing  little  incident  which  illus- 
trates this  close  relationship.  At  the  late  Grand- 
Duke's  jubilee  a  number  of  peasants  from  the  Black 
Forest,  gay  in  their  picturesque  "Tracht,"  were  be- 
ing marshalled  past  the  Imperial  visitors.  The 
Empress  observed  among  them  a  young  fellow 
with  a  large  bouquet  of  wild  flowers,  who  hesitated 
before  her,  evidently  covered  with  embarrassment. 
Believing  that  the  flowers  were  intended  for  her, 
and  wishing  to  help  him  out  of  his  difficulty,  she 
smilingly  stretched  out  her  hand.  The  boy  shook 
his  head  with  great  determination,  and  pointed  at 
the  Grand-Duke. 

"Dem  do!"  ("For  him  there!")  he  said,  and 
pushing  past  the  Empress  thrust  his  gift  into  his 
own  ruler's  hand.  He  did  not  mean  any  rudeness — 
it  seemed  only  natural  to  him  that  his  Grand-Duke 
should  have  the  first  and  the  best.    It  was  only  a 


346  THE    GERMANS 

little  thing,  but  it  typified  the  attitude  of  the  people 
as  a  whole.  The  Imperial  family  is  held  in  awe  and 
respect,  but  the  Grand-Duke  is  their  very  own. 

One  hears  a  great  deal  about  Socialism  in  Ger- 
many— or  at  least  one  reads  a  great  deal  about  it — 
and  from  the  number  of  seats  which  that  party  has 
won  in  the  Reichstag,  and  from  the  meetings  which 
are  held,  one  would  suppose  that  it  was  a  very 
mighty  party  indeed.  So  it  is — but  not  to  the  extent 
which  the  Socialists  flatter  themselves.  There  are 
two  things  which  make  the  Socialist  party  appear 
stronger  than  it  really  is.  The  first  is  that  the  mid- 
dle-class German,  the  patriotic  and  Imperial  Ger- 
man, takes  no  interest  in  politics,  and  is  very 
difficult  to  rouse  to  action.  Thus,  while  the  Social- 
ists vote  to  the  last  man,  the  Liberals  and  Conserva- 
tives, out  of  which  the  best  part  of  the  nation  is 
composed,  sit  at  home,  smoke  and  drink  their  beer, 
and  forget  that  such  things  as  elections  ever  existed. 
The  second  point  is  that  the  German  of  all  classes 
is  not  at  heart  a  Socialist;  at  heart  he  is  loyal  and 
Imperial,  and  when  he  votes  with  the  Socialist  it  is 
because  he  is  a  German,  consequently  very  dis- 
gusted with  everything,  and  determined  on  showing 
his  disapproval  in  the  most  effective  way  possible. 

The  Emperor,  naturally,  has  his  share  of  the 


NATIONAL   SPIRIT  347 

grumblings  of  his  subjects,  and  very  strained  rela- 
tionships have  often  been  the  consequence.  The  fa- 
tal ^'disclosures"  of  a  few  months  ago  is  a  case  in 
point.  Strong  was  the  disapproval,  and  bitter  the 
reproaches,  but  at  the  bottom  I  do  not  believe  that 
the  Emperor  has  lost  a  whit  of  his  popularity.  On 
the  contrary,  judging  from  the  reception  accorded 
to  him  here  shortly  afterward,  the  people  were  se- 
cretly rather  proud  that  their  Emperor  has  a  tem- 
perament which  occasionally  runs  away  with  him. 
It  is  after  all  somewhat  exceptional  to  have  a  tem- 
perament nowadays.  At  any  rate  I  advise  no  one 
to  agree  with  the  German  when  he  grumbles  at  his 
ruler.  It  is  the  German's  privilege  to  grumble,  just 
as  it  is  the  privilege  in  an  ordinary  family  for  the 
members  to  say  unpleasant  things  about  each  other, 
but  woe  to  the  outsider  who  dares  to  interfere! 
Moreover,  William  II  is  an  Emperor  in  more 
than  name;  outwardly  and  in  his  life  he  represents 
his  position,  his  very  love  of  magnificence  throwing 
a  glamour,  a  medieval  splendor  about  him  which 
appeals  to  the  German  character  and  taste.  And 
the  nation  recognizes  him  as  a  man  of  high  prin- 
ciples and  high  ideals,  with  his  country's  greatness 
well  at  heart,  and  those  virtues  have  held  him 
bound  to  his  people  in  the  worst  and  stormiest  pe- 


348  THE    GERMANS 

riods  of  their  relations  toward  each  other.  What- 
ever else  he  is,  the  Emperor  is  German ;  German 
in  his  ideas,  in  his  virtues,  and  in  his  failings.  His 
people  recognize  themselves  in  him,  they  see  in 
him  the  epitome  of  their  race,  and  if  they  disagree 
with  him — as  is  the  way  with  those  who  resemble 
each  other  too  closely — a  real  and  prolonged 
estrangement  is  impossible.  As  to  the  Press,  its 
"revelations,"  "disclosures,"  "interviews,"  and 
scandals,  one  can  only  feel  an  intense  pity  for  a 
man  who,  thanks  to  his  exalted  position,  is  laid 
open  to  the  calumnies  of  bad  enemies  and  the  be- 
trayal of  worse  friends  without  the  possibility  of 
redress.  Lese  Majeste  indeed!  The  expression 
seems  to  me  wholly  ironical.  The  Emperor,  as  far 
as  I  can  see,  is  the  only  man  in  this  country  who 
can  be  abused,  betrayed,  and  libeled  with  impunity. 
This  is  not  a  political  chapter;  politics  do  not 
play  any  greater  part  in  my  German  Year  than 
they  play  in  the  year  of  the  average  German,  and 
I  will  therefore  desist  from  a  long  discourse  on  the 
subject.  The  German  himself  has  very  little  inter- 
est in  the  matter.  A  short  time  ago  the  elections 
took  place  in  Karlsruhe  without  causing  the  slight- 
est disturbance  or  excitement.  The  papers  and 
those   actually  engaged   in   the   struggle  worked 


NATIONAL   SPIRIT  349 

themselves  up  to  the  correct  fever  pitch  with  ap- 
peals, threats,  denunciations,  and  so  on,  but  the 
people  remained  entirely  passive.  It  is  this  indif- 
ference which  must  be  remembered  when  calculat- 
ing the  powers  of  the  various  parties  or  when 
seeking  to  find  out  the  real  feeling  of  the  nation. 

Newspaper  opinions  are  practically  valueless. 
The  newspaper  is  not  the  voice  of  the  people — it  is 
the  voice  of  the  party,  and  the  foreigner  who  listens 
w^ith  over  great  seriousness  to  the  rantings  and 
bickerings  of  the  Press,  under  the  impression  that 
it  is  Germany  who  is  speaking,  is  liable  to  be  very 
much  misled.  The  average  German  takes  very  lit- 
tle heed  of  the  opinions  of  his  daily  paper.  He 
skips  through  the  latest  news  paragraphs,  ignores 
the  political  column,  and  considers  he  has  done  his 
duty.  The  Englishman  with  his  half-dozen  terrific 
periodicals  fills  him  with  amazement,  and  what 
still  more  astonishes  him  is  the  importance  which 
the  Anglo-Saxon  attaches  to  Press  opinions  and 
prophecies.  The  German  holds  them  to  be  of  no 
value  whatever;  they  are  not  his  opinions,  but  the 
opinions  of  a  party  which  is  itself  not  representa- 
tive— far  less  so  than  in  England  where  the  people 
are  steeped  in  politics  down  to  the  lowest  work- 
man. 


350  THE   GERMANS 

The  Socialist  party,  for  instance,  is  composed 
of  a  comparative  handful  of  red-hot  demagogues 
supported  by  a  mass  of  ignorance,  stupidity,  dis- 
content, and  indifference.  When  some  over-zeal- 
ous Junker  in  the  Reichstag  makes  some  autocratic 
remark  which  displeases  him,  the  laborer  throws 
in  his  vote  for  the  Socialist  without  further 
thought  over  the  matter.  The  Socialist  receives 
him  with  open  arms  as  a  convert,  and  the  laborer 
remains  what  he  was — a  respectable  citizen  who 
will  probably  be  the  first  to  cheer  the  Emperor 
when  he  sees  him.  From  what  I  have  heard  and 
seen,  I  believe  any  great  appeal  to  the  nation,  as 
in  the  case  of  war,  would  burst  the  great  Socialist 
party  like  a  bubble. 

There  is,  however,  one  dark  spot  in  the  national 
character  which  is  not  to  be  denied  and  difficult 
to  excuse.  This  is  the  almost  servile  admiration 
which  a  certain  type  of  German  has  for  foreign 
ways  and  foreign  customs,  his  ready  adoption  of 
their  fashions  and,  what  is  worse  and  all  too  fre- 
quent, his  adoption  of  their  nationality.  As  far  as 
I  know,  the  German  is  the  only  man  who  will  not 
only  deliberately  and  willingly  deny  the  land  of  his 
birth  and  take  on  new  colors,  but  will  look  back 
upon  his  origin  as  a  sort  of  stigma.   Even  in  my 


The  bicycle  is  popular 


NATIONAL   SPIRIT  351 

small  circle  I  know  three  or  four  families  without 
a  drop  of  English  blood  in  their  veins  who  have 
become  naturalized  British  subjects,  and  are  deeply 
offended  if  you  do  not  pronounce  their  German 
name  in  the  English  way.  What  is  more,  they  will 
not  hesitate  to  abuse  their  blood-countrymen,  make 
fun  of  their  customs,  and  exalt  their  newly-ac- 
quired nationality  in  a  manner  peculiarly  objec- 
tionable. They  are  the  parvenus  of  the  nation, 
people  who,  having  forced  their  way  into  a  circle 
to  which  they  do  not  belong,  attempt  to  hide  their 
origin  by  throwing  as  much  mud  over  it  as  they 
can. 

The  Prussian  rarely  if  ever  sins  in  this  re- 
spect; he  is  a  true  patriot,  passionately  German, 
and  it  is  to  him  therefore  that  Germany  owes  her 
greatness.  The  South  German  is  the  worst  sinner; 
and  though  it  is  only  one  class  which  produces  these 
parasites — chiefly  the  merchant  and  bourgeois  class 
— it  is  quite  large  enough  to  make  the  matter  seri- 
ous. It  is  as  though  in  this  particular  circle  the 
national  feeling  had  never  fully  developed,  but  re- 
mained a  stunted  growth  which  is  easily  uprooted 
and  replaced  by  another  plant — usually  carefully 
cultivated  with  gold  and  self-interest.  I  have  said 
elsewhere  that  the  aristocracy  and  a  certain  supe- 


352  THE    GERMANS 

rior  division  of  the  bourgeoisie  formed  the  back- 
bone of  the  nation,  and  their  patriotism  is  another 
proof.  The  aristocrat  is  German  to  the  core;  he  is 
not  only  proud  of  his  old  name,  but  of  his  birth, 
his  home,  his  country,  and  his  Emperor.  He  is 
ready  to  sacrifice  everything  for  these,  his  highest 
ideals.  Whatever  else  may  be  said  of  him,  he  is  at 
least  no  turncoat.  Old-fashioned,  conservative,  and 
autocratic  he  may  be,  but  if  patriotism  is  old-fash- 
ioned and  conservative  then  is  the  nation  to  be 
pitied  who  stands  in  the  advance-guard  of  progress ! 
I  remember,  during  a  tour  through  the  Black 
Forest  some  time  ago,  sitting  at  the  dinner  table  of 
an  hotel  with  two  Germans  who  had  entered  into 
a  hot  discussion  over  their  own  and  other  coun- 
tries. I  knew  neither  by  name,  but,  as  is  usual  in 
Germany,  we  were  on  bowing  terms,  and  both 
knew  that  I  was  English.  Perhaps  as  a  bad  com- 
pliment the  one  began  to  abuse  Germany  and  to 
exalt  England  above  every  other  nation.  I  cer- 
tainly felt  far  from  flattered.  The  fact  that  an  edu- 
cated man  could  speak  as  he  did  of  his  own 
country  before  a  foreigner  seemed  to  leave  an 
unpleasant  taste  in  the  mouth.  The  other  German 
was  furious,  and  at  last  rose  and  left  the  table  with 
the  remark: 


NATIONAL   SPIRIT  353 

"Whatever  grievances  you  may  have  you  have 
no  right  to  speak  as  you  have  done.  Whatever  her 
faults,  Germany  is  your  country  and  should  be  for 
you  the  only  country  in  the  world." 

The  rest  of  the  meal  was  decidedly  uncomfort- 
able, and  afterward  I  asked  my  German  friend, 
who  during  the  discussion  had  been  simmering 
with  indignation,  if  she  knew  who  the  two  men 
were.  We  found  out  from  the  visitors'  book,  and  it 
was  significant  that  the  patriot  was  a  Prussian 
count,  the  other  a  merchant  from  some  South  Ger- 
man commercial  city.  Naturally  I  do  not  base  my 
conclusions  on  this  one  instance,  nor  do  I  infer  that 
all  the  merchant  class  is  composed  of  such  types. 
All  I  can  assert  is  that  the  parasites — they  are  little 
better — ^who  settle  in  other  countries,  taking  all 
the  benefits  they  can  get  and  denying  their  father- 
land, are  recruited  chiefly  from  the  ranks  of  the 
money-makers.  Even  there,  however,  this  disease 
or  weakness  in  national  pride  is  gradually  disap- 
pearing. It  was  no  doubt  the  result  of  the  long 
years  when  patriotism  was  cramped  and  discour- 
aged by  the  fatal  disunity;  and  now  that  Germany, 
as  a  united  nation,  has  taken  her  place  in  the  fore- 
most rank,  her  children  are  throwing  off  the  old 
vice  and  beginning  to  display  the  high  pride  of  race 


354  THE   GERMANS 

without  which  no  people  can  be  truly  great.  And 
to-day  let  no  one  be  misled  by  the  grumblings  and 
seeming  indifference  of  a  certain  class.  A  ready 
overflow  of  patriotic  feeling  on  every  small  occa- 
sion is  usually  tainted  with  hysteria,  and  the  Ger- 
man is  not  hysterical.  His  enthusiasm  and  his 
patriotism  lies  deep  below  the  surface,  and  only 
when  the  storm  winds  of  danger  or  adversity  arise 
will  the  world  know  the  forces  which  are  hidden 
beneath  the  calm.  With  the  call  to  arms  divisions 
and  hatreds  will  be  forgotten,  and  the  Emperor  will 
find  himself  at  the  head  of  a  mighty  united  nation, 
ready  to  make  every  sacrifice  and — above  all — pre- 
pared. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WHICH  CONTAINS  AN  APPEAL  AND  AN  APOLOGY 

In  the  six  years  which  I  have  spent  almost  unin- 
terruptedly in  Germany  and  among  the  German 
people,  I  have  not  once  had  to  defend  my  nation- 
ality, or  heard  a  word  which  could  v^ound  my  na- 
tional pride.  Those  who  have  lived  a  great  deal 
abroad  will  understand  that  that  is  a  big  statement, 
and  it  is  all  the  bigger  because  in  those  six  years 
the  tension  between  the  two  countries  has  been  acute 
and  the  war  clouds  have  hung  heavy  on  the  horizon. 
On  the  one  hand  I  read  of  nothing  but  hatred, 
jealousy,  and  rivalry;  on  the  other  I  experienced 
nothing  but  kindness,  courtesy,  and  goodwill.  I  do 
not  think  my  experience  is  exceptional.  English 
people  with  open  minds  who  live  in  this  country 
have  only  affection  to  express  for  their  German 
hosts,  and  they  in  turn  are  invariably  popular  and 
welcomed  in  every  circle  of  German  society.  The 
old  dislike  for  the  Englishman  has  long  since  been 
swept  away,  and  as  individuals  the  two  races  agree 

355 


356  THE  GERMANS 

admirably.  Why  not  then  as  nations?  There  is  the 
difficulty,  the  problem  which  perhaps  only  time 
will  solve.  As  I  have  said  before,  not  a  little  of  the 
trouble  is  due  to  the  newspapers  and  to  those  dan- 
gerous people  who  have  never  been  out  of  England 
but  know  all  about  it,  but  even  putting  those  two 
irresponsible  sources  of  irritation  aside,  there  re- 
mains an  undeniable  bitterness.  That  the  bitterness 
is  very  one-sided  is  as  obvious  as  it  is  inevitable. 
Age  is  afraid  and  jealous  of  youth — not  youth  of 
age.  We  have  grown  and  can  grow  no  more  and 
can  only  fight  against  decay;  the  German  nation  is 
growing,  and  we  watch  her  progress  with  an  alarm 
which  in  private  life  shows  itself  in  obstinate  prej- 
udice, in  public  life  in  feverish  activity  and  rest- 
less outbursts  of  irritability.  The  German  attitude 
toward  England  during  these  periods  is  one  of 
surprise  and  mild  amusement.  In  various  ways  the 
question  which  the  German  asks  is,  "Why  do  you 
worry  so?  Are  you  grown  so  weak  that  you  can  not 
watch  the  progress  of  another  nation  without 
panic?  We  do  not  want  war  with  you.  We  want  to 
develop,  we  must  develop,  we  have  the  right  to  de- 
velop. Leave  us  in  peace,  and  we  will  leave  you  in 
peace." 


APPEAL  AND   APOLOGY  357 

It  is  the  cry  of  youth  and  national  vitality  seek- 
ing an  outlet,  and  that  it  rings  unpleasantly  on  our 
older  ears  is  almost  inevitable.  We  do  not  and  dare 
not  trust  to  the  proffered  peace.  Unconsciously  or 
consciously  we  look  forward  to  the  time  when 
youth  shall  have  become  full-grown,  and  old  age 
decrepitude,  and  ask  if  it  would  not  be  better  to 
strike  now,  while  we  have  the  strength.  That  is 
also  what  the  German  asks.  He  wonders  why  we 
have  not  struck  long  ago,  since,  at  the  bottom,  he 
believes  that  it  is  now  too  late,  that  in  a  war  be- 
tween the  two  countries  his  nation  would  come  out 
victorious.  But  even  if  he  were  mistaken,  even  if 
there  were  still  time,  an  attack  delivered  out  of 
sheer  fear  of  the  future  would  be,  in  the  end,  as 
disastrous  as  it  would  be  un-English. 

We  condemn  all  attempts  to  cripple  a  rival  in 
sport,  firstly,  because  it  is  unfair;  secondly,  because 
we  know  that  it  is  rarely  successful.  We  know  that 
the  fittest  wins,  and  as  good  sportsmen  we  prefer  to 
stand  aside,  cheering  the  winner,  even  though  he 
does  not  carry  our  colors.  In  the  greater  struggle 
between  the  nations  the  same  principle  holds  good. 
The  fittest  wins.  Therefore  it  is  above  all  things 
necessary  that  we  should  steel  ourselves  in  national 


358  THE   GERMANS 

virtues,  in  energy,  in  self-sacrifice,  in  unsparing 
endeavor,  believing  that  if  we  are  worthy,  if  we 
have  retained  our  old  high  standard,  we  shall  also 
retain  our  place  in  the  world.  Wealth,  Dread- 
noughts, spasmodic  bursts  of  activity,  defensive 
alliances,  and  so  on,  will  not  save  us  from  the  fu- 
ture— our  own  fitness  is  our  one  salvation,  and  our 
fitness  lies  in  our  national  character,  not  in  our  na- 
tional pocket.  At  the  bottom  it  is  not  the  Germans 
we  are  afraid  of  but  of  ourselves,  and  when  we  have 
once  recovered  our  self-confidence,  our  justified 
belief  in  our  own  strength  and  virtue,  we  shall  be 
able  to  greet  the  growing  nation  as  an  ally  and  a 
friend.  The  only  question  is  whether  that  justified 
belief  and  self-confidence  is  still  possible. 

Perhaps  this  short  digression  into  national  mat- 
ters may  appear  to  have  very  little  to  do  with  my 
German  Year,  but,  indeed,  the  relations  between 
the  two  countries  play  a  great  part  in  my  German 
life.  It  is  not  possible  to  love  and  respect  a  for- 
eign people  and  not  feel  the  keenest  regret  when 
shadows  of  misunderstanding  arise  between  them 
and  my  own  countrymen.  It  is  not  possible  to  re- 
ceive hospitality  and  kindness  from  them,  to  live 
in  peace  and  mutual  understanding  in  their  midst, 


APPEAL  AND  APOLOGY  359 

and  not  wish  that  the  same  feelings  of  friendship 
and  good-will  might  exist  between  the  nations  as 
well  as  between  the  individuals.  I  firmly  believe 
that  the  German  people — I  am  not  speaking  of  the 
politicians  and  newspapers,  but  of  the  people 
whose  casting  vote  will  weigh  more  than  all  else 
together — wish  for  peace,  and  are  ready,  even 
eager,  to  hold  out  the  hand  of  friendship.  Two  na- 
tions who,  time  after  time,  have  fought  shoulder  to 
shoulder,  who  together  saved  Europe  from  her 
greatest  danger,  related  in  blood  and  in  all  the 
highest  virtues  of  courage,  tenacity,  and  loyalty, 
should  surely  go  forward  in  the  future  united  as  in 
the  past. 

It  is  the  only  logical,  the  only  natural  and 
just  solution  of  the  problem  which  confronts  us, 
and  it  is  a  union  worthy  of  every  effort  and  of  every 
sacrifice.  On  its  consummation  depends  the  world's 
future,  humanity's  progress.  England  against  Ger- 
many! We  dare  not  imagine  the  end  of  such  a  dis- 
aster, and  woe  to  that  nation  which  first  draws  the 
sword — but  England  and  Germany  together!  It 
may  be  a  dream,  a  Utopia  beyond  earthly  power  of 
realization,  but  it  is  a  dream  worth  dreaming,  and 
no  man,  no  nation  is  the  worse  for  struggling 


36o  THE   GERMANS 

toward  an  ideal  however  high,  however  unattain- 
able. And  we  have  no  right  to  cry  "impossible!" 
— not  yet.  There  is  still  time  and  hope.  Only  let 
true  greatness  of  purpose,  true  generosity,  open- 
mindedness,  and  faith  replace  the  canker-worms 
of  fear,  envy,  hatred,  and  distrust,  and  the  ideal 
will  be  within  reach  and  the  world's  danger  passed 
for  ever. 

So  much  for  my  humble  appeal.  The  politician 
will  no  doubt  smile  condescendingly  and  produce 
statistics,  extracts  from  papers,  speeches,  and  secret 
treaties  enough  to  overwhelm  an  ignorant  private 
individual.  But  I  refuse  to  be  overwhelmed.  My 
German  years  have  given  me  hope,  and  I  prefer  to 
go  on  hoping  to  the  end. 

This  German  Year,  at  any  rate,  is  finished,  the 
wander  through  my  impressions  and  experiences 
closed.  I  lay  no  claim  to  infallibility;  there  are 
exceptions  to  every  rule,  and  it  may  be  that  in  cer- 
tain points  I  am  wholly  mistaken.  But  I  have  de- 
scribed faithfully  what  I  have  seen  and  heard,  and 
by  that  witness  alone  have  I  formed  my  opinions 
and  passed  my  judgment.  I  am  fully  conscious  that 
I  have  said  nothing  new,  nothing  which  all  Ger- 
mans and  many  English  people  living  in  this  coun- 


APPEAL  AND   APOLOGY  361 

try  do  not  already  know,  and  for  this  I  apologize. 
But  if  I  have  lifted  a  corner  of  the  veil  which  di- 
vides the  great  bulk  of  my  countrymen  from  my 
German  friends,  if  I  have  brought  the  two  peoples 
a  step  nearer,  then  my  task  has  not  been  undertaken 
wholly  in  vain. 


THE  END 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  50  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.00  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


MAY  8  1$3 


WAY   31935 


AUG  3  1  1971  8  5 


MAY  28  1845 


15Nov'49SS 


24Jan'56!<g 


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26Js.i:'. 


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f5 


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0CT31'9S5  83 


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LD  21-100m-8,'34 


V 


A 


yO  08890 


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